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P'TIT MATINIC 
MONOTONES 




ONE letter was for a woman ; 
and as I with difficulty de- 
ciphered the cramped w^riting, — 
"iMrs.AbbieTrefethen," — a great 
hand reached over my shoulder 
and snatched it away irom me as 
a pale, thin-faced woman pushed 
her way through the men, saying, 
"Give it to mel " (Page 12.) 



P'TIT MATINIC 

AND OTHER MONOTONES 



GEORGE WHARTON EDWARDS 

M 

author of 
"thumb-nail sketches" 



WITH MANY DRAWINGS AKD 

DECORATIONS BY 

THE AUTHOR 




THE CENTURY CO. PUBLISHERS 



NEW YORK : M DCCC XC IV 



?^ 






Copyright, 1894, 
by The Century Co. 



THE DEVINNG PRESS. 



" For freshest ivits I know will 
soon be wearie 
Of any book^ howsoever it be, 
Except it have odd matter 
strange or merrie, 
Well sauc'd ivith fiction, 
A?td glaired all luith gleeT 

MIRROR FOR MAGISTRATES. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ARRIVAL OF THE MAIL . i 



1 n c vv ivu-v^rv 

DRUSIL'S FAIRF' . . . . 


24 


THE NEW JUSTICE . . . 


33 


THE HEAD OF OL' GULL . 


43 


THE WOOING OF HISE . 


58 


THE PRODIGAL . . . . 


72 


OLD GRIMES'S MASTER- 




PIECE 


85 


A DISTURBER OF FAITH 


102 



P'TIT MATINIC 
MONOTONES 




THE ARRIVAL OF THE 
MAIL 



"When ye git the split in 
George's Island over ag'in' 
Gran' Mahac, then ye can call 
it jest half-way to ' P'tit Mati- 
nic'.' '^ Thus said the venerable 
bucaneer on the wharf at Port 
Cleeve, standing in the mist and 
haze of a July downpour, in tar- 
paulins and sou'wester of the 
palest yellow. " Mind ye that 
the buoy on the outer ledge 's 
shifted a half p'int to theeast'ard, 
so that ye '11 hev to make the 
cock hills over the day-mark." 
This last was addressed to the 



melancholy person whom T had 
induced to set me on P'tit 
Matinic'. 

" But I carn't see what 'n the 
ol' Harry ye want out to sech 
a place, eighteen miles from no- 
where, when ye might stop 
where ye be, comfortable and 
com/^;Yable, right here to the 
Gut, an^ a new hotel an' fixin's, 
with a pianny and a cupeler, 
an' all manner," — a pause to 
see if these superior attrac- 
tions might not weaken my re- 
solve, — " but if ye will go, why, 
ye will, I cal'late; an' there 's 
the mail for the island, an' ye 
can jest tell 'em that it 's laid 
here so long that it 's got kinder 
fly-spotted, — but I cal'late that 
they won't mind that, — an' ye 
might say that salt 's riz, an' 
mackerel 's bringin' eighteen 'n' 
harf for ones." 

As we dropped down the har- 
bor in the drizzle, his grumbling 
voice died away, and before he 

2 



became a blur against the gray 
wall of the fish-house I saw him 
raise his hands to his face, and 
form a speaking-trumpet with 
them, and faintly came to us, 
'^ The — red buoy — shifted — 
day-mark." I might perhaps 
have been flattered at his mani- 
fest concern for my comfort did 
I not have a lively conscious- 
ness that it was born of certain 
experiences in which a half-gal- 
lon jug, w^hich I had procured 
from Boston especially for such 
purposes, figured heavily ; and 
this jug now occupied a con- 
spicuous position under the 
thwart of the boat before me, 
and was fast vanishing from his 
sight. 

Good old Captain Fussle ! 
" Albion Truro Fussle, master 
pilot, captain of a square-rig- 
ger, sir, thirty years; none of 
your blanked [shocking exple- 
tive] schooners ! " was his form 
of introduction, at the end of 

3 



which he was quite purple — no, 
violet — in the face, to such an 
extent was his pride aroused. 
Good old Captain Fussle, I say, 
but for your opposition to P'tit 
Matinic' I should perhaps never 
have known its delights. As to 
P'tit Matinic', I doubt if you can 
find it on the map, lying as it 
does a mere speck at sea, ten 
miles from the nearest point of 
land, and eighteen miles from 
any town. 

We were now beyond the 
harbor. Here was the dull blue 
sea under the dull gray sky. 
The wind blew fresh, the rain 
fell, a soft^ thin moisture rose 
from the sea, and met a soft, 
thin, gray cloud descending 
from above. The long, even 
rollers of the Atlantic stole 
slowly, deliberately, even sul- 
lenly, from the level plain 
beyond, growing to the eye 
perceptibly as they came. The 
water was thickly streaked with 

4 



tawny froth; the base of the 
high, impassable rocky coast 
was marked by a broad hne of 
yellow foam. 

No bird was visible in the air, 
no ship on the sea. There were 




no Kving creatures but our- 
selves. Behind us the towering, 
oppressive, liver-colored rocks, 
and before us the foam-mantled, 
blanched blue sea, and in my 
ears a murmur as though the 
leaves of a hundred thousand 
trees were rustling and tossing 



in the wind. Night fell, and over 
the bow was seen a pale yellow 
glow from some lighthouse low 
down on the purple horizon. 
On our right a line of surf rose 
and fell regularly, and my com- 
panion, pointing to it, briefly 
remarked : " George's Island 's 
opened up. We 're harft way, 
an' I 'm dum glad." I thought 
over all that I had heard of 
P'tit Matinic', of the quiet law- 
lessness of its people, of the 
many wrecks upon its bold 
shores, of the mysterious lights 
upon its headlands. 

I fished for new matter about 
P'tit Matinic' in the brain of the 
youth who was steering the boat 
for me^ who, I found, was stu- 
dying for the ministry in a per- 
functory sort of way, in the 
intervals of " la wbstering," road- 
mending, and barbering for the 
Gut, as Port Cleeve was uni- 
formly and affectionately called 
by the inhabitants. I had evi- 



dently fallen in his estimation 
since consenting to his terms 
and undertaking the trip. Lis- 
ten to him. 

" Some folks carn't sense when 
they 's well off. This wa'n't no 
kind of a chamce to come over 
to P'tit Matinic'. 'S'pose you 
know they ain't no boardin'- 
house nor nawthin' there ? Ain't 
no store, neither. Ain't no doc- 
tor ; ain't no minister. Folks 
is all cousins, an' they ain't a 
pooty woman on the island. 
Hey? Oh, yes; that's the Duck 
Rock. When we git off 'n it we 
mostly blows a horn to tell 'em 
that we got the mail aboard. I 
hain't never been ashore once, 
but them that has says that they 
hain't nawthin' there ter see — 
'thout it 's salt fish." 

" How often does the mail go 
out from Port Cleeve ? " I asked. 

" Hey ? Oh, yes ; from the 
Gut. Oh, when they 's a vessel 
parsin' this way, they generally 



takes it aout; they ain't no one 
wants to go to P'tit Matinic' spe- 
cial 'tic'ler bad, less they carn't 
help goin\ Did I tell you th' 
wa'n't no minister ? Well, they 
ain't. An' they buries the dead 
folks in the rocks top the hill. 
Hey ? Oh, yes; they got plenty 
of good medder-land, but jest 
out of peskiness, I cal'late, they 
sot the buryin'-ground top the 
hill, where they ain't nawthin' 
but stun. 

^'Hey? Oh, yes; they 's a 
goodhghthouse. There 'tis over 
the bow. Second-class Fresnel 
lens into it — come from Frarnce, 
I heard tell; an' a whistling-buoy, 
an' a fog-horn. But land ! when 
it fogs up, an' they see a good 
charnce, I 've heard say that 
they don't blow her ; but if any 
complaint 's made ag'in' it, why, 
the hull passel of folks — hun- 
dred and thirteen census gives 
— '11 swear 't was goin' reg'lar. 

" Hey ? Oh, yes ; they 's all 



wrackers, men, wimming, and 
chuldering. I heard say they '11 
strip a wrack so slick you carn't 
find the calkin\ But say, ye 
must n't believe all ye hear, must 
ye? 

'' Hey ? Oh, yes ; they 's a 
church. But I call it scand'lous, 
sech a church as I hear tell they 
got. They 's a chandyloor in her 
come out of the wrack of the Ken- 
nebec ; carpet too; and the sills 
that supports it come out of the 
wrack of the Guv^ner Beebus^ 
what broke up over on Gran' 
Mahac ; and the suller, I heard 
say, is chock-full of — mind your 
head,now,when theboomcomes 
round ! I 'm goin' to fetch in on 
this tack." 

P'tit Matinic' now lay just a- 
head. There appeared to be two 
islands, as well as I could see, 
by the line of foam, one smaller 
than the other, and midway 
between was a small rocky ledge 
over which the waves broke. 



In my ears sounded the vari- 
ous movements of the orchestra 
of the sea — the shrill silver hiss 
of the long waves toppling in 
curving cascades, and running 




swiftly up the dark face of the 
rock in pale green tongues of 
light. There was the roar and 
rattle of loose boulders torn from 
the hold of the kelp by the pow- 
erful out wash of the water. Afar 
off sounded the deep note of the 
whistling-buoy. There was no 
light visible save the beam of 

10 



the revolving light on the hill 
above. 

" Hey ? " said my Protean pi- 
lot, in answer to a question 
yelled at him above the noise of 
the swiftly running water. '' Oh, 
yes; be there in 'bout ten min- 
utes now. Jest hand me that 
conch-shell from under the seat, 
an' I '11 give 'em a blast. There 
— guess that '11 fetch somebody. 
Oh, yes ; the houses is all about 
us now, but folks is all turned in, 
I reckon." And as he spoke a 
light shone out of the blackness 
beyond and above, and the 
smoothness of the water proved 
that we were inside the ledge. 

"Hello-o-o-o the I-s-1-a-n-d!" 
was answered after an interval 
somewhere from above by," Hel- 
lo-o-o-o the boat ! " 

" Come down and catch a line, 
will you ? Got the m-a-i-1 an' a 
passenger for ye." 

Twinkling lights shone out 
now from various points, and 
11 



soon I discovered a sort of stag- 
ing to which we made fast. In 
a few moments I had mounted to 
the platform, and was surrounded 
by uncouth-looking men in oil- 
skins. 

The faces, as they were lighted 
here and there by the smoky 
lanterns, seemed lowering and 
forbidding. 

" Got the mail, be ye ? " said 
one, stepping forward, and hold- 
ing the lantern to my face. 
"Come into the fish-houp.e out 'n 
the wet." 

I produced the small dusty 
parcel of mail, and, calling out 
the names by the aid of one of 
the lanterns, distributed it from 
the head of a salt-cask. One let- 
ter was for a woman ; and as I 
with difficulty deciphered the 
cramped writing, — '' Mrs. Ab- 
bie Trefethen," — a great hand 
reached over my shoulder and 
snatched it away from me as a 
pale, thin-faced woman pushed 

12 



her way through the men, say- 
ing, " Give it to me I " 

" No, no, Abbie," said the 
man who had snatched it from 
me, holding it away behind his 
back ; " let me read it. 'T ain't 
from Jorn, I tell ye. I know his 
writin' : wa' n't we shipmates to- 
gether ? " 

" Let me have it," she said 
wildly. " I will have it ; 't is 
mine ! " 

" I know 't is, Abbie." 
"I tell you I will have it: " 
The woman's eyes fairly blazed 
from beneath the shawl which 
covered her head and shoulders. 
Thefishermen surrounded her. 
I could not see what happened. 
But after an interval there came 
a curious sound, as of one catch- 
ing one's breath. The group 
parted, and I saw two of the 
men carrying a limp form 
through the door into the night. 
One of the men took off his tar- 
paulin hat, wiped his forehead, 

13 



and with an ai)ologeti(: note in 
his voice, and a wave of his hand 
in the direction of the door, said : 
" Ye see, Abbie's man he was 
lost down ter the Gran' Banks 
six month' ago. We 've all 
knowed it for a spell, but did n't 
dast tell Ab ; an' the letter ye 
fetched was from the captain, 
tellin' her of the edzact happen- 
in' and ingclosin' a draft for his 
pay. An' Ab she 's kind of eg- 
citable by nature^ and that 's 
how — but " — w ith a rapidly 
brightening manner — " be ye 
cal'latin' to stop on here the 
night ? Ye be ? Then come right 
up to the house." 

This was my introduction to 
P'tit Matinic'. 





Through the window at the 
foot of my bed I had a ghmpse 
of a long stretch of hillside with 
mottled patches of sunburned 
grass, and gray rock upon which 
blazed a peculiar orange moss 
that I have never seen elsewhere. 
Over this hillside filed long lines 
of figures black against the grass, 
and bearing rolled-up sail, kegs, 
and various marine impedi- 
menta. Against the sky and the 
sea beyond appeared the masts 
of a schooner, with black figures 
at work. Dreamily watching, 
I awoke to the fact that some- 
thing unusual was going on. 

The figures were men chop- 

15 



ping and cutting away the rig- 
ging. I now saw women and 
children sitting in a row on the 
hillside; and hastily dressing, 




I passed through the kitchen, 
where the remains of a meal 
were strewn in disorder on the 
table, and made my way over 
the hill. 

16 



There lay a schooner of, say, 
eighty tons, high and dry on the 
rocks, with the men swarming 
over it Hke ants, stripping it of 
every article of value. I made 
out the figure of mine host com- 
ing toward me, with his arms 
full of crockery. 

" Schooner come ashore last 
night after ye 'd got to bed; 
thought ye was fagged, or I 'd 
'a' wakened ye. Heaow ? Oh, 
no ; they wa' n't any one lost 
his life ; all got off clear. 

" Heaow ? Where be they ? 
Oh, they cal'lated 't wa' n't com- 
fortable for 'em here, so they jest 
set off. Heaow ? Oh, no, we 
don't drive no one off, but we 
just kind o' p'inted out the way 
for 'em to git clear o' the peen- 
alties of comin' ashore 'thout 
bein' arsked; and they cal'lated 
't was more healthy for 'em over 
to the main. Hed your break- 
fast ? No ? Well, now, jest step 
along up to the house 'th me, 

2 17 



and we 11 have a bite. Or hed 
you drudier stop and see 'em 
parsel off the goods ? All right; 
stop it is." 

The men had arranged along 
the hillside the sails, rigging, 
galley stove, pots and pans, two 
chests and several barrels, and 
the general wreckage; and mine 
host, who was still dressed in yel- 
low tarpaulins and high boots, 
and the character of whose beard 
suggested the idea that he had 
dipped his chin in a can of black 
paint, prepared a number of 
straws of unequal lengths, which 
he offered to one after the other 
of the line of stolid-looking men 
who had arranged themselves 
in a row. " Long straw, first 
choice," he announced. 

" Got her," cried out a sing- 
ular-looking squattily built in- 
dividual, who seemed all boots 
and hat, stepping forward and 
critically eying the piles of 
wreckage. There were murm-urs 
18 



among the men. " Take the 
gear, Jim," said one. '' Gear 's 




wuth thutty dollars, if it 's wuth 
a cent." " Don't ye, Jim," cried 
another; and then ensued a 

19 



pandemonium of suggestions^ 
until he who had offered the 
straws bawled out, " Can't ye 
luff Jim make hees own choice ? " 
Jim finally, after critically scru- 
tinizing each pile, acknowledged 
the superiority of feminine judg- 
ment ]3y referring the matter to 
his " woman," who promptly 
selected the cooking-stove, the 
china, and two green chests, 
contents unknown. Then selec- 
tion went on until all was ap- 
portioned, and nothing was left 
but the hull, over which an un- 
fortunate dog that had been left 
by the crew ran frantically up 
and down as if in protest against 
the looting. 

The sea was rising, and long 
rollers began to come in, beat- 
ing against the side of the ill- 
fated schooner, which trembled 
and groaned with every shock. 

" Heaow ? Oh, she missed 
stays. The captain allowed he 
made the point, but did n't know 

20 




21 



where she was : said the horn 
wa' n't agoin'; but I know bet- 
ter. Made the point, tried to 
come around, and she would n't 
mind the rudder, and the sea 
jest hove her up on the ledge. 
Launched her boat, but the sea 
stove it, and ye can see the 
pieces over there in the cove. 
Heaow ? Oh, yes ; the mate he 
swum ashore with a line, and we 
hauled 'em all off. There 's her 
log there ; ye can read it if ye 
like. B'longed down St. John's 
way. Heaow ? Oh, no, they 
wun't no one bother her now ; 
we has wracks — but hoi' on; 
who be ye, and what be ye ? 

" Painter, eh ! What kind ? 
Oh, picters ! Where be ye 
from ? Ye don't say ! York, 
eh? Well, now — say, I want 
ye ter paint me and Maria Liz. 
Kin ye do it ? And heave on 
plenty of rings and gold chains 
and fixin's, and, say, you need 
n't git on this pimpil 'side the 

22 



nose ; that 's kind of aggravatin' 
to Maria Liz. Sho ! Picter- 
man, eh ? You don't say! Well, 
now, should n't wonder if you 
made a good thing of it on 
here ! " 




23 




There was commotion on 
the Middle Beach, for you must 
know there are three beaches, so 
called, — the Southern, the Mid- 
dle, with which we are now con- 
cerned, and the Eastern. These 
are simply pockets of disinte- 
grated mussel-shells, cast up by 
the sea, in clear spaces between 
the rocks. 

On the Middle Beach was 
gathered an excited throng of 
men, women, and children, all 
talking at once, and at times 
pointing toward a knot of men 
bent over the well, thelong sweep 
of which was describing eccen- 
tric curves and angles in the air 

24 



In the confusion I could gather 
little to explain the unwonted ex- 
citement and activity on the part 
of the men, who for the most part 
are given to a practice which may 
be described as " laying back," 




and which one presently discov- 
ers to be the gentle art of doing 
nothing. 

To all interrogations the one 
reply accorded was, ^' She 's 
daoun in the well " ; which was 
at once contradicted by another, 
in a vigorous 

" Hain't neither ! " 

" Sh' is too ! " 

25 



'[ Hain^t neither, I tell ye ! " 

It was not until the well had 
been sounded and prodded for 
half an hour, — first by the men, 
then by the women, and finally 
by an adventurous youth who 
climbed down into it with widely 
spread legs, — that one Maria 
Liz appeared at the top of the 
lane, and, wildly waving her 
arms, announced in a grating,na- 
sal voice, '^ I found 'er in un'er 
the baid ! '^ and then there was 
an excited scramble among the 
women to see who should reach 
the house first. 

It then came out that — " Ye 
see, Drusir she 's set ag'in' egs- 
travagant livin', bein' drefful clus 
and savin' — an' her folks alius 
wuz before her. Why, I 'mem- 
ber her paa 'way back in '62." 
And here followed a history of 
the author of Drusil's being, 
with which I will not delay the 
narrative in hand. 

" Well, an' that 's heaow she 

26 



came by her clus ways ; and now 
Fairf — Fairf ' 's drefful open- 
handed, Fairf ' is. Ye see, Fairf 
he 's had a good charnce to see- 




coor as fine a yoke of cattle as 
I ever see, an' I Ve seen — " 
Here was interpolated a descrip- 
tion of a certain yoke of cattle 
that the speaker had seen at the 
Lewiston Fair. "Well, Fairf he 

27 



goes to Drusir, and he up and 
tells her of the steers, a-p'intin' 
toward the advarntages into 
'em, and 'lows that t' would be 
a good thing for him to take the 
lawbster money, as was sot by, 
and go and git 'em short-hand. 
Well, b' jolly, Drusil' she bucked 
ag'in' it, and sot up such a waxy 
opposin' of it, that Fairf ' he gin 
up and took out of the house, 
and baited two tub of trawl gear 
before he dast go nigh her ag'in. 
But them steer they kind of 
ha'nted Fairf's mind, and he 
could n't git shet of thinkin' of 
their silky hides and long outda- 
cious horns of 'em ; and then he 
see the profit that they was into 
'em, with the luggin' of the win- 
ter wood, an' the haul in' of stone 
for the new wharf, an' it rankled 
into hees brains so thet he got 
so het up with the idee of losin' 
'em, that for once he up gear 
and run before the wind to suit 
himself — and, b' jolly, he went 

28 



I 



and got the lawbster money out 
the cupboard, and went over 
ter Georgetown and bought the 
steers, an' never let on to Drusil'. 
Well, sir, he did; and he come 
back an' no one never knowed 
nawthin' about it; for Fairf 's 
drefful silent when he sots out to 
be. Well, sir, yesterday the steers 
come. Ye see them when they 
hove them off 'n the schooner in 
the harbor, did n't ye ? Neaow, 
ain't they handsome ? Well, 
Drusil' she see them too^ out the 
winder, but of course she never 
mistrusted that Fairf he had 
anythin' in 'em. Well, when 
Fairf he sot eyes on 'em ag'in 
he was jest a-bustin' with pride 
into him, but he was afeard to 
tell Drusil', so he ups and goes 
out trawlin', first a-sendin' one 
of the boys up to tell Drusil' that 
the steers was a present to her. 
Well, sir, believe it, Drusil' she 
never opened her haid, but just 
sot and looked as if she had 

29 



a-knowed it all along — but just 
as soon as the boy had got clear 




of the house, she writ a piece on 
a paper sayin' that Fairf hed de- 
ceited her, and thet she hud hove 

30 



herself into the well, and pinned 
it into the lookin'-glass so that 
Fairf when he come in would 
see it. Well, sir, bimeby Fairf 
he kind of sneaked in with a pail 
of water, to pass things off pe'ce- 
able; but they wa' n't no Drusil' 
around, and no supper sot out. 
Things looked dismal. Fairf 
he kind of peeked around and 
bimeby he see the piece writ on 
the paper stickin' in the look- 
in'-glass; he read it, and, b' jolly, 
he sot up a confusion — for Fairf 
he 's drefful soft-hearted, and 
that piece was enough to skeer 
any man ; neaow wa' n't it ? 

" Fairf he took out to the well 
and acted like a crazy man; and, 
b' jolly, we was all pooty spent, 
as ye see. Well, bimeby Maria 
Liz (drefful hand for pokin', is 
Maria Liz) she was a-pokin' 
around in the house, and she 
heard hard breathin', and, says 
she, it give her such a turn as 
she had n't had sense the night 

31 



she mistook the lordnum for the 
Jamaiky ginger. 

" Bimeby she peeked under 
the bed in the accit [attic], and 
— there was Drusil'. 

" B' jolly, she had n't been 
near the well either once — 

" Them 's the ways of wim- 
min," he added philosophically. 

"Well," I said, "and what 
about the steers ? " 

"Oh yes! well, FairP he 
'lowed that he 'd sell 'em out of 
hand, but if you '11 believe it, 
Drusir she 's just as sot up with 
'em now as Fairf was before, 
and won't hear of a-partin' with 
'em — an' them 's the ways of 
wimmin," said he, giving a hitch 
to his oilskin trousers. 




32 




At the top of the village, if 
one might so designate the col- 
lection of ancient houses hud- 
dled together beneath the grave- 
yard on the hill, there lives the 
important personage of P'tit 
Matinic*. His freehold consists 
of a yellow two-storied house, 
a hennery^ a half-ownership in 
a fish-house, with its accom- 
panying privileges, a pair of 
wheels, forming part of an ox- 
cart, and the only ones, by the 
way, on the island. (I wish I 
could tell the story of the wheels 
right here, and an interesting 
one it is, too, but I started to 

3 33 



describe the " Squire," and I 
must do so without more ado.) 
A pair of wheels, I say, and a 
better-half much given to gossip, 
and the pursuit of her own in- 
clinations, one of w^hich is the 
boiling of soap-fat, to the un- 
speakable disgust of her consort. 
He first attracted my atten- 
tion in the store, wherein are dis- 
cussed nightly the affairs apper- 
taining to P'tit Matinic'. He is 
perhaps between fifty and sixty, 
of large and muscular frame, 
nearly six feet in height, with a 
face as grave as can well be im- 
agined — in color it is a reddish 
violet ; his shirt collar is gener- 
ally open, and displays a neck 
at the base of which is visible 
a patch of crisp, iron -gray hair. 
At all times he wears a white 
shirt, in contradistinction to the 
other men; and from his ears 
dangle fine gold rings. In an- 
swer to my inquiry, it was made 
plain that he was Simon Tarbox, 

34 



the educated man of P'tit Ma- 
tinic', the arbiter of all disputes, 
from whose decision there could 
be no appeal. Here, seated up- 
on a salt-cask in the store, he 
gravely smokes his pipe. Here 
he decides all matters referred 
to him, and plays the part of 
judge, as I have explained, in 
settling certain disputes between 
the islanders, which might other- 
wise breed ill-feeling. Now it 
happened that I had been in- 
trusted with a rather delicate 
mission to P'tit Matinic'. Ac- 
cording to law a justice was ne- 
cessary upon the island ; and as 
I came through Port Cleeve, I 
was asked to find the proper 
man on the island, and ask him 
to stand for election to that im- 
portantoffice. Therefore, shortly 
after my arrival, I called upon 
Simon, stated my mission, and 
my confidence that he was the 
man of all men for the office 
of justice of the peace of P'tit 

35 



Matinic' Grand Mahac plan- 
tation. How shall I describe 
the expression that crept over 
that violet visage, as the full 
import of my words dawned up- 
on him, or the courtly wave of 
the hand with which he bade me 
be seated, or the bearing which 
he assumed in anticipation of 
the legal robes soon to be his ? 
Begging to be excused a mo- 
ment, he left the room, returning 
soon after with an enormous 
gold chain^ with pendent seals 
stretched across his bosom, and 
a pair of brilliant-hued carpet- 
slippers upon his feet; it was 
then I noticed that one of his 
eyes was blue, and the other 
brown, and that the pupil of 
the blue eye was very large, and 
vertical, giving an indescribable 
appearance to his otherwise ab- 
solutely expressionless face. Be- 
tween us we arranged for a 
public meeting at the school- 
house the next day, where and 

36 



when his election would doubt- 
less be consummated. 

A placard was prepared and 
posted in the store, and the next 
day the men straggled up the 
hill by twos and threes, and soon 
the room was filled. Simon and 
1 occupied the platform, where 
we prepared the slips of paper 
of yellow and blue for the vo- 
ters, yellow denoting the ayes 
and the blues any possible op- 
position. Finally all was ready, 
and 'Fon' Smivvins and 'Lan' 
Levenseller were appointed to 
distribute and collect the votes. 
Simon stood up and exhorted 
each and all to conceal his vote^ 
roll it up in a ball, and drop it 
in the box when it was passed 
around. The votes were cast in 
silence; the sunHght streamed 
through the small windows, 
throwing halos about some of 
the heads, bringing into relief 
certain horny hands with tat- 
tooed emblems thereon, and 



attracting attention to certain 
other flaring ears of vermilion 
illuminated by stray beams. 
The voting was over and 
counted; only one blue paper 
pellet was cast, and Simon Tar- 
box was elected justice of the 
peace of P'tit Matinic' Grand 
Mahac plantation. 

He arose, fumbled the mas- 
sive chain in an impressive man- 
ner for a moment, cleared his 
throat, and, gazing at the ceil- 
ing, began : 

" Fellow- citizens, — ahem, — 
we, — ahem — are gathered here 
— ahem — wh at are we gathered 
here for? We are gathered 
here to exercise — ahem — our 
rights. What rights? Ahem — 
why our rights as free citizens 
of this island — ahem. Ahem ! 
You have been arsked to vote 
for a justice, — ahem, — and you 
have so done, so help you God. 
You have been arsked to select 
a man for that office, and you 

38 




3a 



have seelected and eelected, 
ahein^ — and that ^s all there is 
to it. I don't say that ye have 
done well, but, b' jolly, you 
could n't have done no differ- 
ent, and no better ; and now to 
finish in conclusion, — ahem, — I 
don't want no hard feelings to- 
ward the cuss that hove in that 
blue paper. I cal'late I know 
who he is, but bein' justice of 
the peace, I wun't take no 'count 
of it now, but if he ever comes 
before me in a criminal capac- 
ity, he '11 discover me to be the 
instrument of Jestice with power 
into it. 

"And I want to say that I 'm 
desirin* to see the youth of this 
island grow up good citizens, — 
ahem, — that is to say, ef they 
don't, they '11 find me onto 'em, 
b' jolly ; and I want to see this 
island obeyin' the laws and regu- 
lations according to the author- 
ities, — ahein^ — as laid down in 
Blackstone." Here ensued an 

40 



impressive pause, during which 
the speaker gazed severely at 
'Lan' Levenseller,who squirmed 
in his seat, and, becoming con- 
scious that his left leg, which 
was elevated in an easy position 
on the back of the bench before 
him, was not entirely respectful 
in its attitude, stealthily took 
it down and hid it beneath its 
fellow-member, a proceeding 
which was regarded with judi- 
cial severity by the candidate, 
as a recognition of the proprie- 
ties which should obtain upon 
such an occasion. This breach 
upon the part of the unlucky 
Levenseller was witnessed by 
the assembled P'tit Matinicus- 
ses, and duly commented upon 
for months afterward. To add 
to the discomfiture of the un- 
fortunate 'Lan', the candidate 
pointed his finger at him, slowly 
and impressively repeated, "As 
laid down in Blackstone," and 
cleared his throat with a tre- 

41 



mendous AHEM. *'And now I 
pronounce Mr. Simon Tarbox, 
Esquire, Justice of the Peace of 
P'tit Matinic', and if any has got 
anything to say ag'in' it, let him 
say it now, or f'rever holt his 
peace, so be it." 

Apparently no one had any- 
thing to say, and the new justice 
sat down heavily, and spat upon 
the stove. Then the men with- 
drew from the school-house, and 
filed slowly down the hill to the 
store. 




42 




I HAD known rock-bound P'tit 
Matinic' for many years, and 
thought that most of her se- 
crets were mine : her bold coast- 
Hne ; her heights ; her wooded 
hill; and the schisms and petty 
quarrels of her people were plain 
to me. My painting had long 
since ceased to interest them, 
and had left only a mild wonder 
in their minds that one who 
seemed to show sense in other 
particulars, should give himself 
up to such a childish pursuit. 
Their discussions of men and 
things in the store were free' 
and uninterrupted by my pres- 
ence — indeed they even per- 

43 



mitted me to take part in their 
symposiums. 

Now, one of my favorite walks 
and haunts was, and is, Gull 
Head, or Ol' Gull, as it is com- 
monly called. In form it is not 
unlike the head of the bird for 
which it is named. I should say 
that it is two hundred feet high, 
and about as wide. It projects 
out into the sea, and is con- 
nected with the island by a thin, 
narrow neck of grass-covered 
rock. 

In an easterly storm the shat- 
tered waves leap upon it, bound- 
ing, hissing in irresistible fury 
tow^ard its bald crest; but are 
arrested and poured down the 
sides ere they reach it. Viewed 
from behind, it is not unlike 
the back of some huge marine 
monster, rising from the sea, or, 
say, a creature of the barnacle 
'kind. In color it is a deep pur- 
plish brown, dark blue in the 
hollows and ridges, growing 

44 



lighter on the top from the 
presence of certain veins of 
mica, which are decorated with 




orange 
of the 



patches of pecuHar 
lichen. In no season 
year are the top or sides of Ol' 
Gull ever quite dry, but always 



45 



damp and treacherous to the 
foot. If one fell there, it was 
certain death, for there was 
nothing to catch on the sides : 
and once in the sea, the mighty 
rollers of the Atlantic would 
grind and dash one's life out in 
a very few minutes, as I have 
seen them grind the body of a 
sheep that strayed too near the 
slippery side, and went rolling 
and bounding into the pale 
green, boiling surf 

It was growing foggy upon 
the day of which I write, the 
loneliness of the place was abso- 
lute, for the town is on the other 
side of the island, over the crest 
of the hill, and thus out of sight. 
A few gulls were wheeling and 
crying in the air above. Nothing 
else broke the stillness, save the 
boom of the sea, spurning and 
writhing among the hollows be- 
neath or Gull. I had overheard 
some talk about a cave under 
.the rock upon one ' occasion. 



^'V-^s. 



when unobserved by the speak- 
ers; there was evidently some- 
thing about it that was not in- 
tended for other ears — for when 
I made my presence known, 
there was an embarrassed si- 
lence. What I heard was this : 

" I tell ye, Sim Breeson '11 get 
ketched at it 'fore long, an' we '11 
all be into it," said one, bring- 
ing dow^n his hand on his knee, 
with a sounding slap. 

" Oh, durn gitten' ketched ! " 
said another. " Gull cave can't 
be found ; revenoo ain't never 
bin here, as I know on, and 
I 've lived here man and boy now 
sixty years, come next Lawb- 
sterin'. S' long as it's drinked 
here, an* ain't sold, in short of 
■ — " Seeing me — " Oh yes,salt 's 
riz, — and riz, — an' '11 continoo 
to raise t'll ye can't see it fer the 
height of it " ; and with that a 
pause, during which one after 
the other slouched away. 

This it was that made me 

47 



search for the cave. There are 
many such on P'tit Matinic' — 
some were reported unexplored. 
It was safe to enter one only at 
low tide, and then only for a few 
moments. If you were caught 
in another a minute after the 
tide, you must stay in its chill 
maw for five hours; to still an- 
other only at the full tides : this 
was the information imparted to 
me by the patriarch ; but in it all 
was no mention of a cave under 
or Gull. 

It was a good ten minutes' 
walk over the crest of the hill 
from the town to the narrow 
neck that separated the main 
body of the island from Ol' Gull. 
As I reached it, I thought I saw 
a green dory below ; but I dis- 
missed the idea at once, for it 
seemed that no boat could live 
for a moment where my fancy 
pictured it ; the rock here as it 
descends to the water is smooth 
and rounded as the back of a 

48 



hand, abrupt nowhere save 
where it descends giddily to the 
boihng surf. As I lay on the side 
of the rock, idly studying the ac- 
tion of thewater,a piece of wreck- 
age, the knee of a ship it was, 
came in on the breast of the long 
Atlantic roller, and glided to- 
ward and under the rock. I was 
sure it went under, for there was 
no shock or recoil where it should 
have reached the face of the 
rock, only a stealthy gliding mo- 
tion — ^out of sight. What if 
this was the mouth of the cave ? 
Why could I not by means of a 
rope fastened to my w^aist, and 
to the rock above, descend and 
satisfy my surmise ? In half an 
hour, I had made my way to the 
village, secured a piece of rope, 
and was again in the mist on the 
brow of the rock; in ten minutes 
more, I was slowly creeping 
down the face of or Gull toward 
the water. Suddenly the rock 
fell away at an angle, and be- 

4 49 



neath this the water surged and 
flowed into an opening. I could 
see a steady inpour as each roller 
came up; but no outcome. I 
grew giddy as the water lifted 
its surface toward me, and fell 
away again with mechanical 
regularity. It was ebb-tide, and 
I knew I had to wait only an 
hour or two, to discover w^hether 
there was a foothold there or 
not ; as to the return to the top 
of or Gull, I had no thought,— 
with my feet securely braced in 
a deep cleft in the rock, I half 
sat, half reclined. 

The water fascinated one ; it 
rose and fell with seeming indo- 
lent, purposeless indift'erence. 

With a suddenness that was 
startling, a dory, painted green, 
shot out of the fog ; there was 
a trawl tub in the bow ; and a 
little white buoy, with a black 
dot on it, that I knew at once for 
the patriarch's. Even if these 
had not been present, I should 

50 



have recognized the squarely 
built figure in the yellow oil- 
skins, rowing with its back to- 
ward me, directly at the face of 
the rock. I was on the point of 
calling out to him when some- 
thing tied my speech. The dory 
leaped forward, the figure turned 
its head ; had he lifted his eyes 
he would have seen me in the 
cleft. I shrank back as well as 
I could without well knowing 
why. The man rested on his 
oars for an instant, the swell 
came from beyond, and as it 
lifted the dory, the man rowed 
with all his strength under the 
rock beneath me. 

It was plain that nothing 
could be done before the tide 
fell; if there was any way of 
entering the cave, other than by 
water, the falhng tide would 
show it. Far off to the south- 
ward, the sails of the mackerel 
fleet showed faintly, for the fog 
had passed to the north and east, 

51 



and the sea was unruffled, save 
that the long, clean-backed roll- 
ers which swept slowly shore- 
ward staggered a little as they 
passed over the sunken ledges. 
Eastward, where the sky was 
lead-colored, long fangs of fog 
hung twisting and writhing, torn 
by the fresh southwest breeze, 
and deep from the bowels of the 
rock beneath me came a sound 
like a smothered snore as the 
water entered the opening, a 
sound like the hushed breathing 
of some hidden monster. 

The tide was slowly falling : 
in an hour there would be a fall 
of ten feet, and if there was a 
way into the cave over the kelp- 
covered rock, it would be at my 
command ; if not, well, I could 
try. . . . Distinctly I heard a 
shout from above, then the slack 
rope attached to my waist was 
twitched. I slowly and carefully 
turned in the cleft, and, looking 
upward, there against the sky 

52 



was the patriarch, fumbhng with 
the end of my Une, which I had 
made fast to a small projection. 
" Come up ! " he called out, mo- 
tioning with his hand. 

Up I went, hand over hand, 
and reached the projection upon 
which he sat, breathless with 
the climb. 

" Ye want to spit on yer hands 
alius when ye handles rope- 
yam," he said, sententiously. 
(Pause.) " Say, mackerel 's riz, 
see it into the paper. D' ye 
cal'late they 's gitten any ? " 
pointing toward the sails of the 
fleet gathered on the horizon. 
I ignored the question. " Ye 
don't say ? Down there, eh ? 
Is, eh ? Cave ? Sho now ! " I 
intimated that I had seen him 
enter the cave in the dory, and 
that I was bound to explore it 
myself. He looked me over 
slowly, and then once more stu- 
died the position of the mack- 
erel fleet offshore. Suddenly 

53 



he turned and brought his large, 
red, tattooed hand down on my 
knee. '' Say, son, d* ever you 
hear tell of the beast called 
the elephant, that 's got a nose 
hitched to his head four foot 
long? Ye did. Well now, I 
cal'late a nose like that ain't 
healthy onto a human; to be 
shore, it 's drefful handy for pok- 
in'^ — on a animal, — but on a 
human created by Godlemighty, 
it 's onnatural. Say, son, says I , 't 
ain't healthy on a human, mark 
my w^ord. Say, son, what be ye 
up to anyway ? Ye hain't rev- 
enoo, be ye ? " The hand on 
my knee tightened, and the 
gray eyes grew more piercing. 
"Hain't? Well, I '11 take yer 
word for it ; but take my advice, 
as is giv'n kindly — about the 
elephant's nose, and keep clear 
of or Gull. 

" Say, son, have a cigar, will 
ye? 'T ain't bad." He fumbled 
in the breast of his tarpaulin, 

54 




^CevPfi.- «j^)&^£ 



and brought forth a silver case, 
worn, but of pure workmanship. 
" They 's fresh, if ye Hkes fresh 
ones/' It was an Emanuel Gar- 
cia about six inches long, and 
of as fine flavor as I have ever 
tasted. 

"Good? Oh,yes,pootygood. 
Got some down to the house a 
leetle better. Say, son, hev a 
taste ? " Again the fumbling 
hand in the pocket, and a silver 
flask was produced, the exact 
counterpart of the cigar-case. 
" Take a swig ? In the foggy 
weather it 's handy to have clus 
by ye; but I don't bawther it 
much. Beyeajedgeoflicquor ? 
No ? " in a disappointed tone, 
taking the flask from me ; then, 
" Well, let 's be goin' ; ther' ain't 
no more to see. Show 's over 
here, curtain 's down, and lights 
gitten put out. Guess ye be a 
picter man, after all ; and say, 
come over to the house to-night; 
I 'd like to show ye a picter, and 

56 



git yer opinion onto it consider- 
ing its merits." 

He unfastened the end of the 
rope from the place where I had 
tied it, and with a circular motion 
w^ell known to sailors cast it free, 
and it fell into the water below 
and sank from sight. 

Then, taking my arm ostenta- 
tiously in his, we carefully made 
our way back to the village. As 
we parted he said, with a pecu- 
liar emphasis, " Better for ye to 
be seen coming back with me, 
son." 

That night I was sitting in his 
house looking in astonishment at 
the picture of a fresh, fair young 
girl in a gray gown, exquisitely 
painted, and signed — Carolus 
Duran ; and looking up in sur- 
prise, I saw the patriarch brush 
his hand across his eyes. 

'•Gosh ee!" he said; ''that 
cordial wxnt the wrong way. 
Hey ? Oh, that 's my Polly. She 
's in Europe." 

57 




" She asked me ; yes, she did, 
sir, arsked me fair. " Hise turned 
the copper bolt which he was 
beating out hot upon the face of 
the anvil, and,eyeing it critically, 
gave it a couple of tentative taps 
with the hammer. Hise, other- 
wise known as Benjamin Harri- 
son Levenseller, blacksmith of 
P'tit Matinic', was the genius of 
the island. ^' Why, sir," to me 
said the nimble Breeson upon 
one occasion, he of the prodi- 
gious boots and hat, " Hise — 
you let Hise take and git him a 
good nice dolf, and I don't car' 
what ye want, he '11 make it out 
for ye on th' anvil, Hise will ; 

58 



but gosh ! he cam't talk none to 
speak of 'thout it 's in meetin' ; 
and then when he gits deaown 
on his knees, b' jolly, th' ain't 
no one else kin have a chamce, 
'cause he 's a-goin' through it all 
from Genesis ter i?<?lations, Hise 
is. But ye git him off 'n ///<^ /where 
th' ain't none kin tech him, and 
where he kin walk 'round Scrip- 
ter like a cooper 'round a carsk 
— the?i ye 've got him. 'Cause 
Hise, he 's got a nateral impedi- 
ment into his speech, Hise /las, 
and he cam't git the Avords out 
what he 's sensin', Hise carn't. 
But with his anvil, or in meetin', 
Hise is a square-rigger a-goin' 
free 'fore the wind, Hise is. What 
say ? Oh, no ; Hise ain't never 
merried yit ; he 's alius lived 
alone over in Lawbster Cove 
ever sense he come here a boy. 
My woman lets him have a 
bakin' o' bread occasion', an' a 
mess o' beans. He don't want 
much in the fancy cookin' way, 

59 



Hise don't. Hey ? Oh, yes ; 
he '11 talk for ye, if ye patience 
him, and don't rile him by cut- 
tin' in on him when he 's tryin' 
ter git the words out, Hise will. 
He kin talk better when he 's 
a-hammerin' on his anvil; I cal'- 
late he kind of shocks out the 
idees he 'sgot into hees haid — 
cause Hise, he 's full of idees, 
Hise isT 

I will not delay the narrative 
by relating the processes by 
which I gained Hise's confi- 
dence and friendship ; suffice it 
to say that I am a welcome 
visitor at his forge — and I 
never cut in upon the train of 
his ideas. 

One evening in the late fall, 
a schooner from Chebeaque 
brought as a passenger a tall, 
wiry-looking woman, who, when 
she landed on the beach among 
the salt- barrels and upturned 
dories, inquired of the men the 
whereabouts of Benjamin Har- 



rison Levenseller. She was di- 
rected to his house in the cove, 
and immediately rumors flew 
wild over the island; some of 
the men betook themselves in 
haste to their better-halves to 
relate the strange occurrence of 
a visitor for Hise, and a woman 
at that. Others followed the 
woman up the hill and en- 
sconced themselves among the 
scrub pines, from where they 
saw the visitor walk boldly up 
to the door of the Httle red one- 
story house in the cove, and 
enter without knocking. For 
an hour the watchers waited, 
and then the visitor emerged 
escorted by Harrison, lantern 
in hand, and hurried to the 
house of the justice of the peace, 
which they entered and closed 
the door behind them. I do 
not exaggerate when I say that 
the entire population of P'tit 
Matinic', with the exception of 
Sim Breeson, whose turn it was 

61 



that night in the tower of the 
Hghthouse, — men, women, and 
children, — was ensconced be- 
hind bhnds of convenient houses 
and out of doors in the shelter 
of rocks and on the stone walls 
that lined the road to the house 
of the justice. One bolder than 
the rest walked up the stony 
path to the door, from which 
shone a brief gleam of hght; 
and even I was beginning to 
feel the prevailing curiosity 
when Harrison and the woman 
emerged arm in arm. He stum- 
bled in the gloom, and would 
have fallen, had not the woman 
held his arm. The two passed 
down the road between the 
hidden rows of questioning, 
eager eyes, past the store, which 
was deserted, and whose one 
forgotten kerosene lamp was 
giving out black smoke from a 
broken chimney, and up the 
hill to Harrison's house. " B' 
jolly," said one individual who 

62 




;/ 



63 



had followed them quite to the 
door, and then joined the throng 
which filled the store, " Hise 
he never opened hees haid, but 
the woman she talked a streak, 

— could n't make out what 't 
wuz about though, — then they 
went into the house and shet 
th' door." Here entered Fairf . 
"Hise 's merried — I see 'em 

— I stood up with 'em while 
the squire spliced 'em fer better 
er fer worse ; that 's what squire 
said, and I witnessed it. She 's 
got the lines, too, and Hise 
he 's spliced to her. I went up 
and told Drusil', but, b' jolly, 
she says 't ain't so, thet they 's 
underhanded business about it 

— comin' here like that female 
woman did, and jest snatchin' 
Hise offhand as if they wa' n't 
nothin' onnatural in it. And 
Hise he jest taggin' along, and 
lookin' as if 't wuz the same as 
he 'd been in the habit o' doin' 
every day. And she says, says 

64 



Drusir, that they ain't goin' 
ter be no shivveree till it 's all 
made plain and square. It 's 
scan'louSj sech goin's on. It 's 
scan'lous when a female kin 
come over here an' jist walk a 
man afore jestice 'thout hevin' 
it said out in meetin'; and, b' 
jolly, I hed to sign the paper 
too — an' she got it!" Amid 
all the excitement of the ensu- 
ing days, Harrison preserved 
his equanimity. As usual when 
the wind was fair, his old green 
reach boat could be seen over 
on the fishing-ground. The 
mysterious woman who had so 
outraged the proprieties of P'tit 
Matinic', pursued the even tenor 
of her way. The neighbors held 
aloof from her, — there was no 
interchange of courtesies, such 
as a measure of green peas, or 
a toothsome cucumber from the 
neighboring gardens ; but as far 
as one could see, this had no 
effect upon the intruder, and so 

•5 65 



matters progressed. Little by 
little the novelty of the situation 
wore away, and finally Rise's 
woman, as she was styled, was 
accepted as an integral part of 
P'tit Matinic'. The following 
summer found me once more 
at the island, and I noticed 
that now the interloper was 
respectfully called Mrs. Leven- 
seller, and her praises resounded 
in the community. Who was it 
that attended to Sol when he 
got his fingers caught in the 
cog-wheels of the lamp machin- 
ery at the lighthouse, and deftly 
dressed them? And who sat 
up night after night at the bed- 
side of old Mother Fethran, the 
common scold, who was in the 
last stages of consumption? 
And who was it, pray, who 
discovered Fairf off the Duck 
Rock, in a nor'easter, on the 
bottom of his swamped boat, 
and rowed out to him before 
any one else had discovered 

66 



his danger ? Mrs. Levenseller, 
to be sure ! She was a pleasant- 
faced woman of the northern 
type, large boned, with wide 
gray eyes. I will let Harrison 
tell the story for himself 

" Arsked me fair ! — what say ? 
Oh, ee'yes. She hed to — for I 
never waant no hand to train 
with gells. I d' know, I alius cal'- 
lated that they w^uz laughin' at 
me. Ye know I got this 'p-p-p- 
pediment in my haid ; got idees 
enough, yes; — but when I go 
to talk, 'thout it 's singin' or 
preachin', I c-c-c-can't git it 
eaout. Yes — I see my fust over to 
Herrin'gut a-cruisin' by the post- 
ofifice, and she turned and looked 
at me — b' jolly, when them big 
gray eyes of hern ketched mine 
— " Here ensued a paroxysm 
of chuckles and gasps. " Well, 
sir," he resumed, eying the cop- 
per bolt critically, and fitting the 
end of it carefully in a nut that 
he had made, '' I allowed that 



I wanted that gell — but heaow 
ter git her ? I knew I never dast 
spunk up to her. So I goes — 
ye wun't tell, will ye ? — I know 
ye wun't, but them boys wants 
to find out all about it, so 's they 
kin set on the bar'ls in the store 
and oraie it — ever hear John B. 
Goff ? I heard him over to Lew- 
iston Fair. Neaow John he — " 
I gently held him to the story in 
hand. '' Oh, ee'yes ! Well, I jest 
goes over to the bank where I 
hed four hundred an' sixty-two 
dollars salted down, and I says ter 
the jedge, — ye know the jedge : 
^Jedge,' I says, slow like, ye 
know, 'cause I got the 'p-p-p- 
pediment in my haid — * Jedge,' 
I says, offhand like that, ^ they 's 
a gell that I like over here, and 
I caPlatethat she has ahankerin' 
after me — it 's that there big- 
eyed Petersen gell — neaow I 
dassent say nawthin' ter her — 
but will ye favor me with her ? 
Tell her thet I got four hundred 



an' sixty-two dollars salted down 

— and I got a house and lot over 
on P'tit Matinic', an' a boat, 
fishin' privilege, and thutty-four 
hogsheads o' fish — good house 

— four rooms furnished deaown- 
stairs, and a w^oodshed. Will ye 
answer for my character ter her, 
and say that I 'm waitin' fer an 
answer ? ' Well, sir, the jedge 
said he would, and took his hat 
and went along, and I waited 
there. Bimeby he come in. I 
says, says I, ' Jedge, what luck ? ' 
says I. * Why, Hise,' says he, 
a-layin' hees hand on my arm 
friendly-like — ' Hise,' says he, 
^shejestlaughed and said thet — ' 
well, never mind the words she 
said ; they was techin' w^ords, a- 
makin' sport with my 'p-p-p- 
pediment. So thet 's the last gell 
I ever made up to." 

" I don't understand," I said. 
" You got her after all, did n't 
you ? " Harrison pretended to 
be busv over the forge. Finally, 

69 



he drew the glowing copper bar 
from the red hole in the forge, 
and thrust it into the pail of water 
alongside of the anvil. 

"Got her?— no, I did n't 
never git her, — but I Ve got 
her mother, and she arsked me, 
too. She came over on the 
schooner, and she comes straight 
up ter my house, and walks in. 
And I was makin' some coffee 
for supper. I says, ' Set doAvn, 
Mis' Petersen,' I says. ' How 
dy ? Have some supper,' I says. 
An' after we had supper, she says, 
^ Harr'son^ soft like thet; and 
I looked up at her, and I see thet 
she had sump thin' on her mind. 
^ Harr'son,' says she, 'be ye lone- 
some ? ' An', b' jolly, my heart 
begin ter tremble; I knowed 
sumpthin' was comin', an' I 
could n't git a word eaout. ' Har- 
r'son,' she says ag'in, ' when ye 
comes home nights, there ain't 
no one to get ye a mess of vit- 
tles ; there ain't no one to take 

70 



your oil clothes, and hang 'em 
up to dry nigh the stove; they 
ain't no supper sot out fer ye 

— they ain't no worldly com- 
forts in yer cup of life.' Them ^s 
the words she said — poetical, 
ain't they now ? '• Harr'son,' she 
says, ^ I come over ter stay with 
ye ' — and with that she ups and 
lays her haid on my westc't — 
'Harr'son, willyehev me fory our 
own wedded wife? ' she says; an', 
b' jolly, I riz up and says, says I, 
''I will! Le' 's go and get the 
squire.' An' neaow, sir, you 've 
got the whole story, and I hain't 
never regretted that big-eyed 
gell, her daughter — pooty fig- 
ger an' eyes she had, too, but 
she could n't stand my 'p-p-p- 
pedimejii ; but sech idees is on- 
healthy — I mean them/<?7;<?idees 

— neaow ain't they ? Ye git 
yer haid all stirred up with think- 
in', an' git het with it, and it 's 
onhealthy — jest like book-read- 
in' — neaow ain't it ? " 

71 




" Well, Unc' Lin' he 's parsed 
away, 'n' Aunt Sally, too," said 
the Patriarch, joining the group 
outside the door of the meet- 
ing-house, the regular Sunday 
morning group, waiting until 
the women had entered, stand- 
ing idly, all dressed in stiff Sun- 
day clothing, and feeling heavily 
the responsibility of brilHant- 
hued neckties and white collars, 
with which they were adorned. 

"You 'member Unc' Lin," he 
said, addressing me — "what, 
ain't ye heard ? — parsed away 
larst night endurin' the gale o' 

72 



wind; hed a shawk i both on 
'em, n' went eaout like a can- 
dle-snuff. 

" Funeral to-morrow. Cal 's 
went after the elder over to the 
Gut, and there 's Jorn up on 
the hill neaow a-diggin' the 
grave. Yes, we 're goin' to bury 
them on here o' course ; they 've 
alius lived here, was borned, 
courted, and merried right here, 
so it 's kind of natural fer 'em to 
be buried here, too, neaow, ain't 
it ? They was the most love- 
sick old couple I ever did see," 
he said, looking out over the 
tawny sunburned grass and the 
gray rocks, to the flashing sea. 

I well remember the old cou- 
ple — Unc' Lin' sitting in the 
corner of the fireplace, croon- 
ing out of a newspaper, held 
upside down, some starthng bit 
of marine news which had been 
related to him, for he could not 
read, to the dehght of Aunt 

1 Shock of paralysis. 
73 



Sally, who contentedly puffed at 
her pipe in the opposite corner. 

The couple were always 
known and addressed by their 
abbreviated first names even by 
the children, and their depen- 
dence was tacitly recognized by 
kindly demonstrations of neigh- 
borly regard; even while with 
that indifference which is char- 
acteristic of the north coast 
people, they ignored their maun- 
dering and attempted participa- 
tion in any conversation which 
chanced to take place in their 
hearing. 

It was their romanticism which 
had drawn these two together 
fifty years before, and from their 
witless love-match, an account 
of which may hereafter appear, 
arose all their subsequent trou- 
bles. Some years before my 
arrival at the island they had 
been taken into the house of the 
Patriarch, whose energetic con- 
sort now relates their story. 

74 



^^~*> 




75 



" Oh, yus," said she, " they 
was alius ihinked well of, though 
th' waant no force into them, 
and waant never used to no sort 
of thinkin' for 'emselves, a-run- 
nin' off over to the main an' 
a-gittin' merried thout never 
thinkin' heaow they was goin' 
to git a mess o' vittles fer one 
mouth, let alone two. They 
waant neither of 'em any deeper 
than a pint maisure, an' folks 
did say they was both off, their 
parents bein' first cousins as my 
mother told me many a time, 
an' that bein' contrairy to the 
law in these parts ; but ef I 
draw'd my last breath a-sayin' 
of it, 1 'd say that they was the 
lovein'est upright-dealin'est folk 
as you ever see. Oh, yus — 
they 's hed chil'en — a sight of 
'em, too — they 's all laid up yon- 
der in buryin' -ground — that 
is, all but Sime. Sime he run 
away to sea — shipped down St. 
John's way, but we hain't never 

76 




77 



heard nothin' of him sense as I 
knows on; reg'lar reeprobate, 
too, Sime was — alius a torment 
of Beelzybub 'fore he run away. 
'T was after that thet they both 
went kind of looney, and had a 
shawk both of 'em to once, an' 
nawthin' to live on neither of 
'em, an' they Uvin' in that ol' 
house thet was ready to drop 
down on 'em come any gale 
of wind, so I says to Lon' I 
says, we better git 'em over here 
'fore sech happens — an' sakes, 
I did feel queer to have 'em here 
a-settin' each side of the chim- 
ley a-mumbhn and a-winkin' to 
each other an' never knowin' 
nawthin' es was a-goin' on, but 
I says to Lon', I says -— ef we 
had n't a-went for 'em they 
would n't a-come an' we could 
n't let 'em git taken over to the 
teown farm. 'Course they was a' 
expense — but I cal'late thet 
we air called to succor them as 
they ain't no way of succorin' 

78 



theirselves. So here they 've 
set with us, for the larst fifteen 
years. Summers, when the days 
air long, they 'd set eaout there 
on the platform an' Unc' Lin' 
ud jest hist them cahco flags of 
his that I made him on the pole 
every time a schooner 'd parse — 
he a-thinkin' thet perhaps Sime 
was on her a-comin' back, an' 
a-sayin' with his face all drawed 
up, thet he could n't hev his boy 
come into the harbor 'thout 
signalin' on him. Then the 
schooner 'd parse on, an' Unc' 
Lin' 'd look a-kind o' forlorn, an' 
haul deaown his colors, and set 
there a-thinkin', tell Sally sh€ 'd 
'gin to paw and fondle him. I 
never see no sech fondlin' as them 
two 'd hev — they was the great- 
est two to fondle as ever 1 see I 
But you jest let on that you 
thought Sime was a' ongrateful 
son, and you 'd hear some swear- 
in' from Unc' Lin', I cal'late. 
He 'd allow thet they was a 

79 



home-comin' for the prodigal, 
and that he was goin' to git ready 
the fatted calf for him — fatted 
calf, when they hed n't a cheer 
nor a bite but what was given 
to 'em in charity ! An' Lon' 'ud 
say, ahind his breath, so 's not 
to hurt their feehn's, ' Ef I c'd 
ketch thet Sime, I 'd lam him 
so 's his elbers 'd knock dust 
eaout 'n his kneepans.' Thet 's 
what Lon' 'd do, too. But you 'd 
jest orter 'a' heard Lon' set an' 
cawdle old Unc' and Aunt Sal- 
ly. Lon' a-tellin' them heaow 
Sime 'd come back soon to 
'em, with hees pawkets a-bust- 
in' with money, an' a-comfortin' 
of 'em, and then goin' eaout 
int' the fish-house an' a-cussin' 
that Sime fer a good-fer-naw- 
thin' squab. I tell ye, church- 
woman that I be, I enjyed it, 
tho' I don't darst let Lon' know 
as I approve of hard langwidge 
— knowin' as I do the ways of 
men — and us so nigh thet there 

80 



loose town of St. George, thet 's 
wuss' 'n any Sawdom. 

" Well, we begun to notice 
thet the old couple got weaker 
every day, ontell finally they 
waant able ter set eaoutdoors, 
tell one day the freighter from 
St. John come into th' harbor, 
and one o' them young limbs o' 
Beelzybub come a-runnin' into 
th' house a-hollerin' eaout thet 
Sime hed ben heard of. Old 
Unc' Lin' heard the name of 
Sime — and 'fore we know'd 
there they come out the house 
both of 'em, an' they par'lyzed, 
too, a-holtin' on to each other's 
hands, an' Unc' Lin' a-hollerin' 
fer joy, ' Where 's Sime ? ' an' 
then thet brat o' Satan tell'd 
him thet Sime 'd been in St. 
John, and hed shipped ag'in an' 
hed n't sent no w^ord. They 
just dropped both of 'em — hed 
another shawk, I cal'late, fer 
they never spoke neither on 
'em, but jest laid in the baid 

6 81 



side by side where we kerried 
'em. Well, thet 's heaow they 
lay until this mornin*, 'n when I 
went ter 'em ter give 'em their 
breakfasts, Unc' Lin' he kind o' 
roused up an' he eaout with 
' Sime — when — Sime — 
comes — 'but he never got no 
further, for he dozed off like, 
and did n't take no more no- 
tice, but parsed away peaceful, 
an' 'pears as if old Sally parsed 
away the same moment, fer 
when I looked over at her, she 
was a-smilin' like she heard 
somethin' pleasant, an' I cal'- 
late she hed, too. Elder says 
as heaow folks as is a-parsin' 
alius hears heavingly chunes. 
Would ye like to see them ? " 

I accepted the invitation, and 
entered the darkened room 
where the old couple lay. Very 
calm and gentle were the still, 
white faces. . . . From the 
window I saw a crowd of men 
coming up the hill toward the 
82 



house. Some distance before 
them Avalked a shorty heavily 




built man. After an interval I 
heard his voice in the kitchen. 
" I was up to the old house/' 

83 



he said. " I find it all fallen in, 
an' the weeds a-growin' there. 
A little gal tells me thet I '11 
find the old folks here." 

'' Why, Sime Levenseller, is 
thet you ? " I heard the woman 
cry out. 

" Where be they ? where be 
they?" The hoarse voice grew 
louder. There was silence for 
a moment, in which the clock 
could be heard ticking loudly. 
Then the woman drew the man 
into the room — her apron was 
held to her face. 

" Sime," she said, brokenly, 
dropping his hand. " Do ye 
understand ? — they 're tired 
out a-waitin' fer ye — there they 
be a-layin' down on the baid." 
And I followed her from the 
silent room, and softly closed 
the door. 




84 







^jpMM 




M 


W// if Sl^^^^^iP^^^^^ JyU\ 



Old Grimes, we called him, 
although that was not his name. 
The sign on the door of his stu- 
dio, in that gray old building on 
Washington Square, was N. P. 
Gummidge — fancy a painter 
with a name such as that! — 
Portraits. But in reality he 
painted rehgious subjects^ such 
as " Moses Smiting the Rock," 
" Noah Contemplating the 
Ark," " Lazarus in the Tomb " 
— things black with umber 
and bitumen and dreadful in 
drawing. 

It was a curious and pathetic 
figure that presented itself every 

85 



morning, and mounted the stairs 
to the upper floor where were 
the studios in that portion of 
the Old University Building 
which had previously served as 
the chapel. A figure in a long, 
well-worn, gray coat, with a 
pail of water in one hand, and 
a parcel wrapped in yellow 
grocer's paper in the other. 
A figure surmounted by a 
patriarchal head, covered with 
a silk hat of an ancient model 
that had evidently been re- 
cently wiped with a wet cloth — 
so disreputably shiny was its 
luster. Beneath its faded brim 
shone kindly youthful eyes. His 
manners were those of the old 
school. Unfailingly polite and 
considerate even to the ill-man- 
nered janitor, who never lost the 
opportunity of bullying him. 
From laughing at him strug- 
gling up the steep stairs with 
his pail of water, we finally got 
to helping him by turns, and 



so gained his confidence and 
friendship. 

" You young fellows," he 
would say, as some one of us 
assumed his burden at the bot- 
tom of the stairs — " you young 
fellows are away ahead of me. 
I can't understand your rain- 
bow colors. I can't do it. I 
am trying to catch up to you — 
but it 's like chasing the will- 
o'-the-wisp. My things are so 
dark. Yours are so light and 
fresh ; light wath sunlight, and 
fresh as air. But all the same 
I don't like them ; they are too 
dazzling. I can't see old Mo- 
ther Nature in that light — but I 
am at something now that wall 
astonish you, / thhik. No ! I 
won't show it until I carry out 
my idea, then perhaps the world 
— but wait — I '11 show^ you my 
' Lazarus,' if you like. Come in 
and see it. /like it. I 've got 
something in it that is fine." 
Then the pathetic figure wath its 

87 



one shoulder higher than the 
other would lead us into the 
studio, — thick with dust, — ht- 
tered with his cooking-utensils, 
brushes, pans, bottles, and im- 
mense canvases, — would bid us 
be seated, with old-fashioned 
courtesy, apologizing for the 
state of his apartment, and ex- 
cusing its disorder by dignified 
imprecations upon a certain 
mythical person who had not 
arrived that morning to put his 
place in order. It was both lu- 
dicrous and pathetic to see him 
take up his palette and brushes, 
and strike an attitude before his 
wretched studies, which were 
both out of drawing and of atro- 
cious color. " What do you 
think of that bit of color, gen- 
tlemen ? Don't you think that 
pretty good, eh ? That cheek, 
now; I find something inde- 
scribably beautiful in that, — its 
freshness, if you like, — and in 
the quiver of Mary's lip ; that 's 



Mary — no, no, not that one — 
here, that other 's the Magda- 
len. Now, I think that bit of 
color, eh ? quivers, don't it, eh ? 
a master stroke ! Now where 
would you send it, eh ? To the 
S. A. A.,ortheN. A. D.? You 
know that I have not sent any- 
thing in so long that perhaps 
they 've forgotten me." So he 
would stand, wagging his head 
from side to side, making all the 
time a smacking noise with his 
lips, as if he tasted the fancied 
delicious qualities of the colors 
he had laid on. 

" But my figure of Christ, ha, 
ha ! None of you young fellows 
have seen that. There it stands 
behind that drapery. No, no 
one shall see it until I have com- 
pleted it. All I want is the face 
— \ki^ face — all else is finished. 
I want a model for the face. 
Grand and beautiful it is. But 
I want the face. When that is 
finished I '11 show it; 't will be 

89 



Gummidge^s masterpiece. 'T 
will be as famous as — well, never 
mind — you young fellows can- 




not understand enthusiasm as I 
understand it. You are content ; 
and, mind you, I feel for what 
you are doing, — your lightness 

90 



and brightness, and all that; 
but I feel also that you want 
largeness of thought, so we '11 
not quarrel. You '11 do your ef- 
fects, your impressions, and I '11 
admire them, and stick to my 
own methods. Now, I must fin- 
ish my St. Peter for your ex- 
hibition ; so get along with you 
all, and God bless you." 

The last day for the collec- 
tion of pictures for the exhibi- 
tion would arrive and find Old 
Grimes in a state of feverish ex- 
citement, walking up and down 
the hall. He would accompany 
the porters down the long stairs 
with one hand on the frame of 
his awful daub of a picture, 
brushing away lovingly, now 
and then, some fancied particle 
of dust, and again guiding the 
men around some sharp turn of 
the stairs for fear that the frame 
would be injured, and finally 
following its course with eager 
eyes, as it was placed in the 

91 



van with others bound for the 
Academy. 

Poor Old Grimes ! His pic- 
tures always came back to him, 
refused by the jury. '' Great 
Scott ! Boys, look here — an- 
other Grimes! " would be heard 
at the Academy as the huge 
black canvas was brought up 
the steps. And it would be 
promptly stopped then and 
there, and sent below with a 
mark on its back, in red chalk. 
And so it was year by year. Ju- 
ries came and went, but Old 
Grimes carried in his pail of 
water winter and summer, and 
painted on. 

We never referred to the pic- 
ture after it was first placed in 
the van. It came back to him 
in due season, but it passed by 
closed studio doors — closed 
out of respect for the feelings of 
Old Grimes, who for a period 
thereafter would be silent and 
melancholy. But he would 

92 



speedily recover, and begin 
again upon some new and par- 
ticularly atrocious scheme of 
color and drawing, which was 
promptly painted over the late 
unsuccessful Moses or Aaron, 
or some such attempt. 

But it was over the figure of 
Christ that his enthusiasm never 
faltered. It was, as he often 
told us, to be his masterpiece 
— " Gummidge's masterpiece " 
he called it — this it was under- 
stood he had labored over ever 
since we first knew him. // stood 
in the corner of his studio with 
a dingy white cheese-cloth cur- 
tain before it, — and w^henever 
we would enter his studio he 
never failed to drop the curtain, 
to conceal it. 

He was always talking of it. 
When one met him on the stairs 
in the morning, and helped him 
up with the inevitable pail of 
water, he always had some in- 
cident to relate, in which the 

93 



missing face of his picture fig- 
ured. " I thought, young friend, 
that I saw the face this morn- 
ing, — but alas ! when I drew 
nigh, there were sordid hnes 
in it. Originally it had been 
Christ-like, I am sure, but life 
— life — and the passions had 
changed it — the purity had 
passed as the scent of the rose. 
So I am forced to seek again, — 
but I will yet find the face, I am 
sure I shall yet see it, — and theji 
I shall finish my masterpiece. 
No, you cannot help me, young 
friend; I must see it for myself, 
even as I must paint it myself. 
So I may not show it to you un- 
til it is finished. Then you shall 
see it — all the world shall see 
Gummidge's masterpiece." 

Then he would begin to draw 
aimless lines on the canvas be- 
fore him with a piece of char- 
coal, and fidget about to show 
that he desired to be alone. 

Poor old man ! It was a piti- 

94 



ful sight — the thin bony hand 
holding the charcoal trembling 
in the strong north light from 
the skylight above, — a hand 
transparent and yellow, with 
fine, long, tapering fingers ; and 
the eager, sallow face, with its 
straggling gray hair and beard 
falling over the threadbare vel- 
vet coat, with its careless blotches 
of dry paint upon the left arm. 
One day, upon comparing 
notes, we found that Old Grimes 
had not been seen for several 
days ; and while w^e were talk- 
ing, Middletone, at once the 
most talented and the idlest fel- 
low I ever knew, came into the 
studio, and with a show^ of feel- 
ings of which no one had hith- 
erto suspected him, burst forth, 
" Look here- — they say that Old 
Grimes is to be turned out be- 
cause he has n't paid his rent 
for a year ; now I ain't going to 
let it be done. If we fellows 
can't settle it some way with the 

95 



agent, so that he need n't be 
bothered in his room, I 'm go- 
ing to let him have mine. I never 
do anything anyway, so it won't 
matter. The old man is all 
broken up; sick in bed; I saw 
him this morning. I 've sent f®r 
a doctor for him. I don't be- 
lieve he 's had enough to eat 
for months past." 

We went up in a body to Old 
Grimes's studio — there on a 
small iron bed, beside the huge 
curtained canvas of the master- 
piece, which none of us had ever 
seen, lay the thin figure of the 
old man, — the face drawn and 
the eyes closed. His fingers 
were picking, picking, unceas- 
ingly at the thin blanket that 
covered him. Middletone took 
one of the thin, yellow, parch- 
ment-like hands in his as the 
doctor entered hurriedly and, 
with a nod to us, seated himself 
beside the bed, methodically set- 
ting down his hat and case of 

96 



medicine beside him, and wip- 
ing his eye-glasses. 

" So," he said, turning up the 
Hds of the sunken eyes, and 
peering into them. " Bring that 
lamp a little nearer — thanks." 
An interval of silence in the 
room as the doctor bared the 
shrunken breast and applied his 
ear. " You had best send for 
his friends," said he, replacing 
the bed-clothing, and rising to 
his feet. " The old man will not 
last through the night. There 
is total collapse, and I doubt 
if he will regain consciousness. 
Insufficient nourishment and old 
age. Eh! No relatives or friends 
outside the building ? " he said, 
turning and looking at the gaunt 
figure stretched beside him. 
" Well, there 's nothing more 
that I can do, so I '11 wish you 
good night, gentlemen. My fee? 
Oh, that 's all right. The old 
man has nothing, you say. I 
tried to paint once myself. You 

7 97 



are good fellows, you painters; 
good night to you all." 

We sat by Old Grimes's bed 
by turns that night. Toward 
morning he stirred restlessly, 
and I moistened his lips with 
water. " The face of Christ," 
he mumbled. '^ The face! They 
cannot refuse it, once I find it. 
It will be a masterpiece. So 
strong, so mild ! " he repeated, 
feebly waving his hand, and 
motioning as though he was 
using the charcoal. 

A fine sleet dashed against 
the large skylight. The noise 
of a passing carriage in the 
street below aroused the old 
man. He slowly opened his 
eyes, and, gazing about him, 
they finally rested on my face. 

"So," he said, after glancing 
at me for a moment, '' this is 
the end, is it ? Well, 't is time." 
The clock feebly ticking in the 
corner, and the sleet ratding 
on the skylight, were the only 

98 



sounds that followed. I was 
dozing, — perhaps I slept, — I am 
not sure. Suddenly I opened 
my eyes. The bed was empty. 
I sprang to my feet with an ex- 
clamation. There among the 
huge canvases, before the cur- 
tain which hid the masterpiece, 
stood the tottering figure of 
Old Grimes. I rushed to his 
side. " Charcoal," he said, fee- 
bly. '' Give me a piece of char- 
coal. I — I 've almost seen the 
face. I think — I can — draw it 
— in all its purity." 

I gently persuaded him to 
return to bed. The lamps, 
flickering feebly, illuminated 
the vast height of the studio ; 
here and there a carved corbel 
thrust itself forward among the 
dark canvases that had accu- 
mulated in all the long years 
that Old Grimes had sought 
his ideal. 

Above the Gothic arches met, 
and in the dark blue spaces 



between them, faint gold stars 
seemed to twinkle ; for this had 
originally been part of the 
chapel of the Old University. 
The deep blue of the painted 
spaces seemed limitless in the 
dim light of the lamp. Now 
and then the squeak of a forag- 
ing mouse sounded among the 
canvases. Old Grimes had been 
breathing heavily, now he raised 
himself on the bed, and, Hfting 
his arms, cried out, " I saw it. 
It will be my masterpiece. 
Give me — my — palette — my 
brushes — some one — " I 
propped him up in the bed 
with pillows, placed his palette 
in the hollow of his left arm, 
and gave him his brushes, as 
Middletone entered the studio. 
" Call the fellows," I said : " the 
old man's sands are almost run 
out." 

We grouped ourselves about 
the bed, watching the feeble 
motions of the dying painter's 

100 



hand describing lines in the air 
before him. Then the hand 
holding the brush fell upon the 
blanket — he raised his head, 
his eyes opened with . an up- 
ward gaze into the dim blue 
starry space above us, a smile 
of joy illumined the thin lips. 
''I see it — there — gentlemen 
— there — the face of Christ. 
There — at last — I 've found 
the face of Christ ! " 

And so Old Grimes's w^ork 
was done. 




101 



^^=^'^^^^^^, — ^^^"-^"^ 



7¥(P/jfa/i^/.aL.. 




The 7:15 train from Bruges 
for Ostend had left the station 
and was fast gathering momen- 
tum; a fine rain was falling, 
and through the mist the tall 
poplars that lined the way 
loomed up dark and gloomily, 
and the red-tiled roofs of the 
peasant cottages seemed to run 
together in a warm blur of 
color. I had settled myself 
against the cushions for the ride 
of an hour's duration, had 
lighted a cigar and given my- 
self up to the retrospection of 
the events of the day, when the 
head and body of a man, hat- 
102 



less, and breathless, and dis- 
heveled, was thrust through 
the window and hung there 
staring for an interval. ''Help!" 
came the voice, thickly, and 
without giving myself time for 
thought, I seized him by the 
arms and dragged him through 
the open half of the door. He 
sank upon the cushions, and we 
eyed each other. " In Heaven's 
name, man, how came you on 
the footboard ? " I said ; " who 
are you and what are you 
about ? " He gave a long sigh, 
pushed the hair from his fore- 
head. " First of all," he said, 
in English, "have you a spare 
hat ? Let me make myself pre- 
sentable, and I will satisfy you." 
I gave him my traveling-cap, 
which he placed jauntily upon 
his head ; he brushed his clothes 
with the whisk-broom I handed 
him from my traveling-case, 
and arranged his cravat by the 
aid of a small mirror which he 

103 



took from an inner pocket of 
his coat. His clothing was of 
good quality, and his patent- 
leather shoes, which he had 
daintily flicked with his hand- 
kerchief on the seat opposite, 
were evidently of recent pur- 
chase. When he had made him- 
self presentable, he said, with 
an easy manner : " Now, sir, 
let me explain myself. I am a 
traveler, like yourself, and I got 
into trouble with the authorities 
of Bruges. I have had a ter- 
rible experience, as you will see. 
Yesterday afternoon, while walk- 
ing in the graiide place (I had 
only arrived there in the morn- 
ing), I found a portfolio of let- 
ters and documents. There was 
no one about who seemed likely 
to have dropped them, that is, 
no one but a group of peasants, 
so I took them to the little inn 
at which I had my dinner — 
perhaps you know it, the Panier 
d'Or. Yes, there, sitting at the 

104 



table, I examined the contents 
of the portfoHo, which — I may 
as well tell you at once — were 
papers and documents relative 
to the meetings of a certain 
branch of the socialist club, the 
headquarters of which the au- 
thorities have been seeking for 
some time. The documents 
gave many names and addresses 
of citizens of Bruges, Ghent, 
and Alost, as well as a resume 
of the business transacted at 
the meetings, the last of which 
took place the previous evening. 
Instantly, as you may imagine, 
I was in a cold perspiration, 
since the mere possession of 
such documents is a crime 
against the State and — and — 
well, I may as well say, that I 
do not care to come in contact 
wath the secret service for good 
reasons. After having mastered 
the contents of the papers, 
which were of the gravest char- 
acter, I saw at once that there 

105 



was but one way open to me — 
to destroy the portfolio. So I 
engaged a room, and at once 
began to burn the papers by 
means of a candle. In my agi- 
tation I neglected to lock the 
door, and as the papers were 
burning in the wash-bowl the 
proprietress entered with some 
towels. She demanded at once 
to know what I was about, and 
I rather incoherently and con- 
fusedly explained that I was 
burning some old letters. She 
became very angry and de- 
manded that I take them down 
to the kitchen and place them 
in the fireplace. This I did, to 
the amazement of the cook, 
who, I saw, regarded me with 
great suspicion. When I was 
satisfied that they were quite 
consumed, I walked out upon 
the grande place again, after 
asking the direction to the 
Hospice of St. Jean, which I 
wished to visit in order to ex- 

106 



amine the Alemlinc pictures, 
which, as you doubtless know, 
are very famous." I nodded. 
'^Ah, then you are perhaps an 
amateur — an art-lover like my- 
self? " Again I nodded, keep- 
ing my eyes on his. '^ Well," 
he said, after a pause, and. as I 
fancied, a little uneasily ; " but 
you are an Englishman, or per- 
haps an American ? " " The lat- 
ter/' I replied; "get on with 
your story." " Excuse me," he 
said ; " where was I ? Oh, yes 
— well — I — ah —I — I got the 
direction and walked down one 
of the side streets, — you know 
Bruges, — one of the streets on 
the canal. Several times I 
thought I was followed, so I 
turned twice on my tracks and 
assured myself that I was mis- 
taken. Looking behind me 
while passing over one of the 
bridges, I saw a young girl 
come down the narrow street I 
had just left. Her carriage w^as 

107 



so graceful that I stopped and 
waited for her to pass me. She 
wore one of the long cloaks 
affected by the peasantry, but 
as she passed me I saw that her 
face was one of singular beauty. 
She looked, however, as if she 
had been crying^ for her eye- 
lids were red and swollen; but 
I fancied that, as I caught her 
eyes, she half smiled at me. 
While I was wondering if I 
was right,— for these peasants 
are models of virtue, and not 
given to flirtation in any man- 
ner, — she half turned at the 
end of the bridge, and made a 
motion to me with her hand to 
follow. I was thunderstruck, 
my dear sir, but, nothing loath, 
I followed. She did not look 
behind again until she reached 
a high-walled and narrow lane 
which led between the ancient 
sculptured houses; then she 
stopped and made an unmis- 
takable sign, and smiled in a 

108 



manner which completely cap- 
tivated me. I looked about; 
on all sides were the tall^ gloomy 
houses of the long-dead wealthy 
burghers, now sileat and unoccu- 
pied; between them lay the 
canal as still as a mirror, with 
patches of green ooze covering 
its dark face; now and then a 
small stone or a piece of mortar 
dropped into it with a liquid 
splash, but hardly disturbing 
its smooth surface. Not a soul 
was to be seen on the street on 
either side, nor was there a 
sound to be heard save the 
clock in the belfry sounding a 
jangle of sweet- toned bells. 
When I reached the entrance 
to the passageway she was at 
some distance, but I was soon 
near her again. Now she waited 
for me in the shadow of a door- 
way. She did not wait for me 
to speak, but said with a pretty 
patois, ' What will mynheer 
think of me to speak to him in 



this manner ? ' ' Think ? ' I said ; 
' I think you are adorable.' 
She blushed at this, and, seem- 
ingly with an effort, continued, 
' Oh, mynheer, 1 am in trouble ; 
will mynheer help a poor girl ? ' 
' But say how,' I exclaimed in 
her language as well as I was 
able. She put out her hands to 
me, little fluttering hands like 
white birds, which I caught in 
both of mine. I looked into her 
eyes; she met my glance, and 
then burst out crying. Then 
in an instant she sprang away 
from me. ' Be here at nine at this 
very spot, bring the portfoHo 
with you, and I will tell you 
how you can serve me,' she 
said. ' Don't follow me now 
— it is dangerous for us both 
— and don't fail me to-night.' 
With this she ran swiftly up the 
passage and I was alone. Bring 
the portfolio I Here was an 
adventure, sure enough ; it all 
dawned upon me in a moment. 

110 



This young girl was the means 
of communication between the 
members of the sociahst club. 
She had lost the portfolio which 
1 found, and had destroyed. 

" I wandered along the canal, 
carefully noting the particular 
opening where I was to meet 
the charming girl. It was but 
five o'clock, and how was I to 
employ the intervening time ? 
You will beheve, sir, that all the 
glories of the Memlincs had left 
me, and my mind was filled with 
the vision of this lovely girl in 
her distress. I dimly remember 
drinking a glass of wine in an es- 
tai7ii7iet somewhere — and pe- 
rusing a paper, the contents of 
which made no impression on 
my mind, and at nine sharp I 
was in the opening as I had 
promised — " '' Tickets," said the 
guard, noisily unlocking the door 
and entering the carriage. "Ah, 
guard,'' said my mysterious com- 
panion easily, " I have dropped 
111 



my ticket from Bruges some- 
where, and have been unable 
to find it." " Eh ? yes, Ostend, 
with my fi-iend here." The 
guard looked at him search- 
ingly for an instant, then as if 
satisfied, gave him a slip of 
green paper. " By the way, 
Fred^^ he said, addressing me, 
" give him a franc for me, w^ll 
you ? " I gave the franc, and 
wdth many bows the man closed 
and latched the door. We were 
alone again. "Pardon the lib- 
erty I took," said my vis-a-vis, 
" but there was no time to lose; 
if I had not pretended that we 
were traveling together, I would 
have been put ofi" the train — or 
made a prisoner — I will repay 
in some manner your enforced 
kindness." 

I waved the matter aside, and 
recalled him. to his story. Again 
I noted the curious hesitation in 
his manner, as if he was unable 
to resume the thread of his nar- 

U2 



rative, but I attributed it to 
nervousness and the natural ex- 
citement under which he un- 
doubtedly labored. "I — ah — 
oh yes — I was saying — " " That 
nine o'clock found you in the 
passageway?" I interrogated. 
He looked confused for an in- 
stant, I thought, and passed his 
hand over his eyes, keeping it 
there for an interval. The train 
bounded along, swaying now to 
one and again to the other side, 
the chains underneath the tracks 
clanked to the revolutions of the 
wheels. Outside it was quite 
dark; occasionally we passed a 
blur of mellow light, coming 
from some cottage beside the 
railway. I became suddenly con- 
scious that my fellow- traveler 
was watching me through the 
fingers of the white hand which 
shaded his eyes from the over- 
head hght. At length I could 
stand it no longer. " Well," I 
said, ^^ what then, — what hap- 

8 113 



pened in the passageway ? " 
'^ I beg your pardon," he said. 
" I am so confused, that for 
an instant I fear I lost myself. 
I was in the passageway 
promptly at nine. It was very 
dark and the houses loomed up 
blackly on all sides — there was 
no light save that from a lamp 
at the corner before a shrine of 
the Virgin, but the glass was 
so dirty that its rays but served 
to emphasize the shadows. I 
seemed to hear rustling or a 
certain movement near me, and 
really I became alarmed, but 
my desire to see the charmiing 
girl was so great that it over- 
came my caution. At length 
there came a grating sound from 
some door or window near at 
hand; then I was conscious of 
the presence of some one near 
by; then a voice whispered, 
^ Go farther up the passage — 
third door to your left.' I did 
so, and had no sooner gained 



the doorway than it was opened 
and I felt myself pulled inside, 
and the door closed noise- 
lessly. I put out my hand and 
felt the folds of a coarse cloak, 
and the outline of a well-formed 
arm — a sort of indefinable per- 
fume w^as all about me as from 
the hair of a woman, and, for- 
getting all save the memory of 
the beautiful girl for whom I 
had braved possible dangers, I 
put out both my hands toward 
her in a sort of intoxication. I 
felt her for an instant at my side 
— then she swiftly moved away 
from me — I w^as certain that 
it was she, and in that sweet 
instant her breath and her loose 
hair touched my face. ' Make 
no noise,' she whispered, 'or 
we are both lost — follow me 
quietly — here— my hand in 
yours — now beware of the step 
when I squeeze your fingers. I 
shall not speak again, nor must 
you until I bid you; come.' 

115 



" She drew me swiftly along 
the passageway; I was con- 
scious of openings from time to 
time, for currents of air swept 
across my face from either side. 
Then we came to a staircase 
which was of stone, and wound 
about a central shaft ; I know 
not how many steps we climbed 
— I was only conscious of those 
soft, warm fingers clasped about 
mine, the touch of her sweet gar- 
ments, and the intoxicating near- 
ness of her. I could have gone 
on with her forever thus, for I 
was in love, man — do you un- 
derstand me ? — 7nad with love, 
or call it what you like. This 
girl, of whom I had had but one 
brief glimpse, had produced in 
me a feeling that had never been 
mine before. There are those so 
cold by nature that naught save 
money will quicken their pulses. 
These should not be called men, 
it seems to me; yet there are such, 
even as there are women so bar- 

116 



ren of attraction that no men will 
seek them. But there are men — 
and such am I — by nature head- 
strong and impetuous, to whom 
a wish is a law, and the law a chain 
which drags them on even to a 
recognized destruction. 

" I had raised my foot for an- 
other step when I found that we 
were on a sort of landing-place. 
She still held my hand in hers. 
' We are at the doorway,' she 
whispered in my ear, inclining 
toward me in the effort so that 
she leaned against me. I caught 
her in my arms; I placed my lips 
to hers, which seemed to meet 
mine. One moment I lingered 
there in paradise, my soul fairly 
reeling ; then with a sigh she put 
me from her, and straightened 
her arms, which rested upon my 
breast, so that she was at their 
length away from me. 'The port- 
folio,' she whispered softly ; ' give 
it to me — the portfolio.' I 
gasped. I had not once thought 

117 



of it. * I have not brought it with 
me ; in fact, I have destroyed it 
with its contents.' ' Destroyed 
it ! ' she almost shrieked. ' When ? 
Where ? ' She seized me with a 
grasp so strong that I should 
never have believed her capable 
of it. 

'' * Sacrenom de Dieic ! Imbe- 
cile I You have undone me. 
Know you that your life is not 
worth a styver ? Here, come 
in here with me and tell me in- 
stantly.' I fancied I heard other 
sounds below, such as heavy 
breathing, and the shuffling of 
feet on the stairway ; and I felt 
a blast of cold air rush up the 
stairs even as I was thrust by her 
into a doorway, and the door 
closed. ^ Now,' she said, after 
an interval, '• tell me when and 
how the portfolio was destroyed, 
and, first of all, did you read it ? 
Can you read the Greek ? ' I told 
her of the finding of the portfolio, 
and of my subsequent actions, 

118 



as I have related them to you, 
and while I was speaking, there 
came a soft hght into the room, 
which I saw was quite small and 
square, hardly more than six feet 
either way, with a door at either 
end. Up near the ceiling was an 
opening from which came the 
light, evidently from a lamp 
which was placed beyond the 
opening and in another apart- 
ment. 

" The girl's hood had fallen 
back, and her face was once 
more visible, but it was distorted 
with passion — in her hand she 
held a knife. * Fool,' she said, 
' pig of an Englishman, you 
will rue this day — I am of a 
mind — but no, the brotherhood 
shall deal with you — stay where 
you are — move a step and it 
will be your end.' She reached 
and unlatched the opposite 
door — there she paused look- 
ing back at me — never have I 
seen a more beautiful girl. The 

119 



color was in her cheeks, her lips 
were parted, her eyes flashed; 
yet as they met mine they 
melted — they softened, and 
filled with tears. In spite of 
the danger which I realized I 
was now in, I cared for nothing 
in the sight of that girPs tears. 
I caught her in my arms again, 
and again our lips met — and 
she was gone. I heard bolts, 
bars, and chains rattle at each 
side of me ; then subdued con- 
versation in men's voices — a 
paroxysm of terror came over 
me. For the first time I real- 
ized the peril I was in. In the 
presence of the girl I forgot all 
save that she was near; but 
now the situation came before 
me clearly, and I saw that I 
was entrapped. I rushed to the 
door, I beat upon it, I shouted, 
I yelled. I tore at the ring, but 
it was fast; I tried the other 
door through which the girl 
had passed, but it resisted every 

120 



effort I could make. Finally, 
panting with my endeavors^ my 
hands bruised and bleeding, I 
sank upon the floor. How long 
I lay there I do not know. At 
length I foresaw^ that I must 
put my wdts to w^ork and look 
at the matter clearly. Here were 
the facts — I had become pos- 
sessed accidentally of important 
socialist papers, the contents 
of which I had mastered ; I had 
destroyed these ; this act was 
witnessed by the proprietress 
and the domestics of the inn. 
It had evidently been reported 
that I had found the portfolio, 
and I was decoyed to this place 
in the hopes that I would bring 
the papers, and there I was to 
be either bound to secrecy or 
made away with ; probably the 
latter. ' Where was I ? ' I tried 
to remember the route over 
which I had passed. Surely, I 
must be near the Palace of the 
Francs. Suddenly I heard the 

121 



chimes from the Beffroi ; they 
sounded quite near — so near, 
indeed, that I could hear the 
pecuhar hitch which some of the 
hammers give after the note is 
struck upon the bell, and the 
hum in the tower, some octaves 
lower, was distinctly audible. 
Voices came from the door be- 
yond, through which I had en- 
tered; there seemed to be a 
discussion; I held my breath 
for very terror, during which I 
distinctly heard the girl's voice 
excitedly remonstrating with 
some one ; then the heavy tread 
of feet down the stone steps and 
overhead as well. A shde in 
the door opened quickly, and 
the girl's voice spoke to me — 
' Quick ! for your life cling to 
the bolt on the door — there 
is a ring on the inside — stand 
on the stone sill of the door 
and cling to the ring — don't 
look behind yoVi^ pour V amour 
de DieuJ I obeyed, and even 

122 



as I grasped the ring there 
came a harsh grating sound 
of machinery from below some- 
where, and in horror I saw 
the whole floor swing perpen- 
dicularly upon an axle, and my 
hat disappear in the blackness 
of the opened shaft. I heard 
water running somewhere. In- 
stantly it swung back and set- 
tled into place with a sharp 
clang. My hair Avas on end, 
and a cold sweat dropped from 
my finger ends ; my eyeballs 
ached with the terror I felt ; I 
sank upon my knees and dark- 
ness swept away my senses. 
Cold air blowing in my face 
revived me; I could not un- 
derstand, for a moment, what 
had happened ; I was only con- 
scious that T was being car- 
ried along by the arms and 
legs. I opened my eyes, and 
saw the quiet night sky with 
some few stars twinkling far 
above. There was whispering 

123 



among the men who carried 
me ; they stopped and laid me 
on my back on the stones of the 
passage ; one of the men walked 
ahead, while the others stood 
listening. I heard the chimes 
again, but this time they seemed 
far off. Suddenly one came run- 
ning back — ' Hist,' he said in 
French, ' the police ; they are 
coming down by the canal,' and 
something else which I did not 
catch ; then they seemed to melt 
away in tbe darkness of the pas- 
sage. I sat up ; then in my weak- 
ness I crawled to one side in 
the shelter of the wall, and felt 
with my hand a sunken place 
used to light some cellar, and 
in this I crawled, finding that it 
would just hold me. No sooner 
was I safely hidden than the 
sound of feet walking quickly in 
unison was near at hand, and 
then a number of men passed 
and I caught the glint of side- 
arms. When they had gone I 

124 



crawled forth from the open- 
ing and ran — ran wildly down 
the passage, where, I did not 
care so that I escaped; I came 
to a wall, over which I sprang 
and caught the gleam of the 
stars reflected in the canal. On 
I ran until I came to a bridge ; 
I passed over it and under an 
avenue of tall poplars; I climbed 
a fence near a high tower, and 
half fell, half rolled, down an 
embankment, nearly stunned 
by the shock. I put out my 
hands, they touched cold metal, 
and I realized that I was upon 
the railway -track. In the dis- 
tance I saw a brilHant Hght 
which seemed moving ; it came 
nearer and nearer, with a rum- 
bhng noise. It was the train. 
I w^aited until it was abreast of 
me and then sprang upon the 
foot-board. A window was open 
and — here I am." Again he 
passed his hand through his 
hair, and then shaded his eyes. 

125 



I looked at him for some mo- 
ments in silence. " Can you," I 
said, " remember any part of the 
documents or papers which you 
found and destroyed ? Give me 
an idea of the matter which they 
contained." 

'' Give me a moment's time," 
he rephed, '^ and I will try to 
give you the exact wording of 
one of the papers." His hand 
still concealed part of his face — 
the other hand drummed lightly 
upon his knee. 

" Considering," he began at 
last, " that ignorance, forgetful- 
ness, or contempt of the rights 
of man, are the sole causes of 
public grievances and the cor- 
ruption of government, we here- 
by declare : 

'' First — That the great end 
of society is general happiness. 

" Secondly — That no form of 
government is good any further 
than it secures that object. 

" Thirdly — That all civil and 

126 



political authority is derived 
from the people. 

"Fourthly — That equal ac- 
tive citizenship, and the equal 
enjoyment of all property what- 
soever, is the inalienable right 
of men — minors, criminals, and 
insane persons excepted. 

'^Fifthly — That these con- 
ditions cannot be arrived at, nor 
these rights enjoyed under the 
present government. Therefore 
be it 

"Resolved — That the man 
Leopold, the present head, the 
man Breukeleer, the man Ten 
Borg, the man Duykinck, being 
responsible and recognized as 
such by our order, be removed 
by such means as shall herein 
be set down." 

"Enough," said I; "and this 
was in what language ? " 

" Greek characters, but the 
language was French. There 
was much other matter, but it 
was in a different cipher and 

127 



contained in envelops which 
bore Swiss, Russian, and Amer- 
ican postmarks." 

''And now, sir," I said, " tell 
me who you are, and something 
which shall establish further your 
claim to assistance." 

" My name," he replied, look- 
ing me full in the face, "is W. 
Louis Saalberg. I am a musi- 
cian — my place of business is 
Union Square, New York — 
you must have heard of the 
Saalberg concerts. I have n't 
a card about me, for I was rob- 
bed of all my money and all 
my papers by the Socialists 
from whose hands I have just 
escaped, but if you will give 
me a trifling loan and change 
of linen until I can reach my 
banker in Paris — Munro — 
you know^ — " 

"How much do you want ? " 
I added. 

" Oh, a small sum will do me 
— say a hundred francs. But of 

128 



course I will give you my note 
for the amount." 

What would you, sir or mad- 
am, have done in my place ? 
I think I can answer for you. I 
gave him the money. His man- 
ner in taking it was that of a gen- 
tleman ; there was no evidence 
of shame or low-born cringing; 
he was manly and attractive. He 
had a fine musical voice capable 
of varied intonation ; his eyes 
were of singular and piercing 
brightness ; his face was regular 
and, yes, handsome, — such a 
face as we call aristocratic, — 
also possessed of the greatest 
vivacity ; some might say it was 
restless and excitable, but after 
the- tale he had just told this 
might be forgiven. The cold sen- 
tences which I have written 
down cannot, I feel, in the small- 
est degree represent the fervor 
of his speech or the vehemence 
of his tones. The words poured 
out like a torrent, and he looked 

9 129 



as if he wished them, hke a tor- 
rent, to sweep away whatever 
there was of doubt in their truth. 
We were now rapidly approach- 
ing Ostend, and were passing 
by long lines of empty carriages 
and goods wagons. The lights 
of Ostend shone against the sky 
to our right as we swung around 
the long curve by which the town 
is approached, and finally we 
drew up in the station. " Sir," 
said my companion, " if you do 
not object to my company, I will 
gladly go with you to your hotel. 
I am a perfect stranger in Os- 
tend, having reached the con- 
tinent by w^ay of Flushing from 
England. Then again, I am 
hardly presentable to go to an 
hotel alone. So I will ask you 
to bear with me a little longer." 
I attended to the formality of 
paying for his ticket at the book- 
ing window, and, calling a cab, 
I bid the red-vested Fleming 
drive us to the "Empereur" on 

130 



the Digue. As we turned the 
corner from the station there 
shone a red glare in the sky, 
which seemed to grow rapidly 
brighter, and to be near at hand. 
My companion gazed at the 
glare carelessly until a sudden 
turning brought us full in view 
of a burning house — one of the 
old ones, of which there were still 
a few left in the town, such as 
have those queer stuccoed fronts 
and red-tiled roofs which are 
pierced with windows. We both 
jumped from the cab, and ran to 
the edge of the crowd — which 
was rapidly gathering as crowds 
do, coming up apparently from 
between the very stones of the 
street. The lower part of this 
house was occupied by a dealer 
in fish and oil, and it was said 
that a great quantity of such was 
stored there. The fire was burn- 
ing rapidly by reason of these 
materials, and was already visi- 
ble in the rooms above. The 

131 



narrow street, quite filled with 
the peasants, seemed unable to 
contain another person, when 
the absurd fire-engine, drawn by 
the equally absurd fire-guard, 
arrived, and added to the con- 
fusion. While they dallied, the 
house was already past hope of 
safety. Where were the occu- 
pants ? we asked the peasants ; 
were they saved ? None seemed 
to know. It was apparent that 
in a few moments the roof would 
fall in, and now the fire was so 
hot, that no fireman would place 
his ladder against the walls 
where the flames licked upward. 
Suddenly a woman appeared at 
the topmost window; she held a 
bundle in her arms and screamed 
in despair. Then the crowd be- 
low shouted, groaned, and cried. 
Others called out to her to jump. 
Still others called for the ladders, 
and rushed about looking in the 
gutters, as if they were commonly 
kept there. Some wrung their 

132 



hands and prayed, and others 
near us talked incoherently to 
themselves. It was a fearful 
sight. My companion sprang 
forward beating back those who 
stood in his way. He caught up 
a ladder unaided, and, it seemed 
to all with superhuman strength, 
placed it against the wall. So 
great was the heat that the paint 
dripped from it in burning clots, 
and it smoked its whole length. 
He ran up the ladder like a 
sailor — seized the tiles at the 
edge, clambered to the window, 
and in an instant had pulled the 
woman out. She still clung to 
the bundle. You could hear the 
peasants gasp for breath, and 
their faces were pale even in the 
glow of the burning oil. He 
seized the woman in one arm, 
and with the free hand steadied 
himself against the tiles ; then his 
foot sought the smoking ladder 
rung — it gave way — he knelt, 
nearly losing his balance — then 

133 



looked behind him. The flames 
now burst from the window and 
the roof and lapped them. The 
man, leaning there with the wo- 
man grasped in his left arm, put 
up his hand and brushed away 
the hair from his forehead with 
the same motion he had used 
in the train. Then in a moment 
he had stooped at the edge of 
the blistering tiles, reached the 
second rung of the ladder, and 
the next moment was at the bot- 
tom with his burden, which I 
helped take from him. The lad- 
der, consumed by the fierce heat, 
fell in three flaming fragments. 
Then a shout sprang from the 
peasants. The woman was un- 
hurt, and the bundle proved to 
be her baby. They were hur- 
ried away by friends. As for 
my companion, his hands were 
scorched and blistered by the 
burning ladder, and his hair 
singed; it was wonderful that he 
could have done what he did 

134 



without other mjury. I wrung 
his hand again and again in ad- 
miration as we walked away 
through the cheering crowd to 
our cab, he with hanging head 
as if for fear of recognition, and 
seemed chiefly concerned about 
liis hands. I voiced aloud my 
admiration of what he had done, 
but he said simply and with a 
sigh when we wxre in the cab, 
" Sir — only remember it when 
you feel called upon to judge 
me harshly." I did not under- 
stand his meaning then — I do 
now. When we were in the 
hotel, and the proprietor was 
greeting me, I noticed that he 
scrutinized my companion in a 
peculiar manner, but it quickly 
passed from my mind. The 
crowd of peasants had accom- 
panied us to the very door, and 
were calling out and busily re- 
lating the incidents of the fire 
to those whom they met. 
My companion was shown to 

135 



a room next to that which I oc- 
cupied. I sent him clean cloth- 
ing and other needful articles. 
Indeed, I would have shared 
with him what I had willingly, 
such was my esteem for him for 
what he had done in the face 
of death. I was proud of him. 
I ordered that night as good a 
dinner as the Empereur could 
furnish, and that means much, 
but my companion was strangely 
silent, eating but little, and drink- 
ing lightly of the fine burgundy I 
had ordered in his honor. After 
the meal he asked me to excuse 
him for the rest of the evening, 
saying that he would retire early. 
As we walked from the dining- 
room arm in arm, my compan- 
ion started, and following his 
gaze I saw the proprietor in 
earnest conversation with two 
military-looking men, and my 
companion turned abruptly and 
said, " I think I will take a 
breath of air for a moment — will 

136 



meet you in the smoking-room," 
walked quickly to the vestibule, 
donned the hat I had loaned 
him, and passed out of sight. 
The proprietor came to meet 
me. " Monsieur," he said ner- 
vously, "do you know with whom 
you have been dining ? " " With 
Mr. W. L. Saalberg of New 
York," I said without irritation, 
for I well knew the landlord. 
" Not so, monsieur. At least 
that may be the name he goes 
by at present, but he is a noto- 
rious character, — one i\Iyer, — a 
gambler and confidence-man, 
whom these ofiicers know well, 
and of whom I warn you. I 
thought I had seen him be- 
fore, but as he w^as with you, I, 
of course, could hardly believe 
it possible. It would be well to 
examine your belongings, and 
see if he has taken anything. 
He will not return here." I no- 
ticed that the two military-look- 
ing men had disappeared. As 

137 



we went up to my room I told 
the landlord in a few words 
the happenings of the evening. 
" Monsieur should know that in 
all probability there was not a 
word of truth in it all," he said 
when he had heard me through. 
^^And monsieur is lucky to have 
gotten off so luckily and so 
cheaply." 

I am ashamed to say that I 
agreed with him when he said 
this, even w^hile I spoke in ad- 
miration of his magnificent act 
of courage. At which the land- 
lord shrugged his shoulders — 
as one who w^ould believe no 
good of such. So do we add to 
the bad name of a dog, and for- 
get his good qualities. " To him 
that hath shall be given, and from 
him that hath not shall be taken 
away even that which he hath." 
I saw my companion no more — 
but early next morning when I 
awoke^ there on the floor before 
the door was a folded paper. It 

138 



covered a hundred-franc note, 
and read as follows : 

Dear and Good Sir; 

With some trouble I get this 
and the contents to you. When 
you are reading it I will be on my 
way to London. I am not per- 
haps as I seemed — I say perhaps, 
fori ////;/y^ you believed in me,par- 
ticularly after the fire. I, there- 
fore,because of this belief and your 
great kindness, feel that I must 
confess to you that all I told you 
on the train was false — yes, a lie. 
I am a liar — this is not nice to 
read, is it ? but neither is it easy to 
write. I confess that I was going 
to get all I could out of you and 
then pass on elsewhere. This was 
my first thought, but after talking 
with you, and after the words you 
used to me after the fire, I felt 
that I must get away from you as 
quickly as possible for your own 
sake. I have no right to ask a 
favor of you, but I should like you 
to think of me as you saw me on 
the ladder. Good-by, 

The Companion from Bruges. 
139 



What more is to be said ? I 
had my full portion of faith in 
humanity, you see. Every man 
for his lifetime has so much of 
that faith dealt out to him. Some 
spread it over threescore years; 
spread it thinly, too. Others 
have at it in a lump. Perhaps I 
had mine that way. You can't 
eat your cake and still possess 
it, nor may you ask for more 
when you have consumed your 
ration, more 's the pity. What 
do you think of it all anyway ? 
Was this man worthless ? 




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